


Greener Grass in Safer Meadows

by Answering_questions_nobody_asked



Category: Original Work, The Lorax (2012), onceler fandom if you squint
Genre: Blood and Gore, Developing Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Mentions of Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Rating May Change, THERES 1 (ONE) sex chapter, chapter 7 is the devil, gratuitous fluff, in chapter 11, its chapter 7, skip chapter seven if you dont want to read about them fucking every other chapter is fine, some god damn healthy communication between very unhealthy people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-12-04 18:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11560860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Answering_questions_nobody_asked/pseuds/Answering_questions_nobody_asked
Summary: The transition wasn’t as seamless as the outside observer might believe.





	1. Chapter 1

“......Do you wanna make out?”  
     Clara nearly dropped her controller, that was not what she'd expected Craig to say. ‘You only won cuz I let you’ or ‘this game is stupid’ maybe, but not this.  
“Do I.. What?”  
       “Yknow just- just make out a little bit.. As a break.. Y’KNOW what it’s stupid forget it.”  
“No no, I uh-” Did she? This was Craig, obnoxious read her diary was engaged to an alternate version of herself Craig. The answer should be an immediate no. “Yeah. Yea I think that.. Sounds kinda nice.” Well shit, her brain sent the memo her mouth just didn’t get it. For a moment, silence overtook the room. Maybe he’d been kidding and was about to shrug her off in disgust.  
      “.......GREAT..” Or not, “That’s- uh! Great! Yep……………” He fell silent, not looking at her or moving for a moment. “I.. Haven’t made out since high school Clara fuck I dunno why I thought that was a good suggestion.”  
      “Don’t- don’t worry about it man I uh.. Last time I made out with anyone was after our academy graduation. Well.. I mean we were wasted I don’t think that counts actually.”  
       Craig gave a hum of acknowledgement but didn’t say anything more. He drew his knees up to his chest and leaned further into the arm of the couch. “I just… really wanna.”  
      Clara sighed, sliding towards him on the couch. “...It won’t be the same as her, if that’s why-”  
“No that isn’t fucking why!” He snapped, burying his head in his legs with a groan. “I’m not- not trying to rebound or whatever, it’s not like she ever kissed me anyway! Fuck I don’t- I don’t _know_ Clara I don’t know why.”  
      She fell silent, reaching out after a moment to lay a hand on his shoulder. He flinched briefly but didn’t pull away, even as he spoke.  
“I think about it sometimes… It, you, stuff, whatever. It’s weird for me too ok?”  
      Clara let out a quiet sigh, rubbing circles on his back with her thumb. “It’s ok, y’know. Like I said uh- it- I dunno... sounds kinda nice dude. Yeah..”  
Slowly, Craig uncurled from himself, focusing his eyes on the floor. It took a moment for him to speak. “...I didn’t want you to move out. It’s still fucking cold in the guest room.”  
     She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at that, moving her hand from his back to ruffle his hair. “Well, I can’t leave my apartment door unlocked 24/7,  but we both know that hasn’t stopped you before.”  
     He gave a small laugh of his own, finally turning to look at her. Sometimes it was hard to believe how warm her smile was, he’d seen that mouth twisted into a judgemental sneer more times than he could remember. The contrast alone was nearly alarming to think about, and so he kissed her, so at least he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

   Clara didn’t pull away, she froze for a moment at the unexpected kiss but then, slowly, she brought her hand up to cup his cheek and kissed him back. He practically melted into her hand, drawing himself closer to her and clinging to her shirt. The kiss was slow, unsure and awkward, Clara going so far as to pull back an inch or so to ask him to; “Please keep your tongue in your mouth dude, I don’t wanna stop this is nice, but you’re not 13 years old.” He was almost offended, but she was kissing him again before he could fully process what she’d said.  
     Craig offered no resistance as she leaned back across the couch, pulling him with her as if he were weightless. He _felt_ weightless, laying comfortable against her chest. Neither of them were entirely sure which heartbeat was their own now, both fast and hammering against two sets of ribs.  
      A slight whine rose in the back of Craigs throat, he was light headed, overwhelmed, but the thought of stopping almost made him want to cry. At the same time, Clara was losing herself, her fingers running gently through his hair, still, she felt his chest giving short heaves of air as he tried to gasp for air through his nose. Asthma attacks being a decided mood killer, She pulled away first so he could catch his breath. He collapsed onto her chest, taking in a few gulps of air before clearing his throat. “...Holy _fuck_.” His hands loosened their vice-like grip on her shirt, still shaking.   
     Clara laughed and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “That’s uh- a positive sentiment there right?”  
Craig nodded, groaning quietly into the fabric of her shirt. He wasn’t sure how long it’d been, somewhere between 2 minutes and 2 hours probably, but he knew he needed a minute to breathe and let the blush drain from his face a bit. Clara didn’t seem to mind, taking the time to catch her own breath and play with his hair.  
     Soon enough he raised his head to look at her, and almost instantly gave a sharp snort of laughter. “Clara oh my god,”  
“What?” She cocked her head to the side, almost wondering if he really was too overwhelmed to process the situation.   
   “You’ve got like, 6 chins from this angle.” He laughed, beaming up at her, face still red and glasses slightly askew. Clara quirked an eyebrow at him, but couldn’t keep her face straight for long, soon enough she cracked as well, the sound of both their laughter flooding the game room.


	2. Chapter 2

The transition wasn’t as seamless as the outside observer might believe.  
  In the weeks following… Whatever that was, the topic was broached as one would expect; in halting bits and spurts of awkward conversation. Surprisingly, Clara didn’t avoid him. In fact she made herself more present than she had in over a month. It was almost nerve wracking for either of them to bring it up, neither one of them wanting to spoil… Whatever it was exactly. Slowly though, the pattern of “um- so.. Uh..” that had become so expected began to fade. Soon Craig stopped sitting on the far end of the couch so he could slowly scoot closer to her while whatever movie or video game played on screen, instead he settled in next to her automatically. Just as automatically, if both her hands weren’t occupied with a controller, she’d wordlessly slip an arm around him.

    It was one of those times that the credits of the movie rolled to a stop, neither of them had had any urge to move at the end of the film, That she leaned in and pressed a kiss against his cheek. The room fell silent for a moment, both of them processing before,  
    “HAH! You _like_ me!” He tilted to look up at her, expression almost akin to triumphant. Clara couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter, that quickly grew into a low chuckle,  
  “Dude no fucking shit, I made out with you like.. A week and a half ago.”  
“Yea but…” He trailed off, dropping eye contact, “Who knows if that was some, pity shit, or whatever.” The words were barely out of his mouth before she wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he only tensed up a moment before melting back into the hug.  
    “I wouldn’t do that to you y’know…” She murmured into his hair and he let out a sigh,  
“Yeah I- I know.”  
    They both slipped into silence for a few moments more, Clara's hands slipping into his hair and gently running through it, breaking the hold of product enough to ruffle it in a few places. Finally, with a sharp inhale, he spoke.  
  “You do though? Like me? Like I’m not making myself look like a complete fucking tool here.. Again?”  
“Yes Craig,” She smiled, kissing his temple as she continued to gently toy with his hair, “I like you. ...A lot ok?”  
    He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he sighed, relieved and contented, “That’s- hah- that’s really fucking great Clara… I mean that. I like you too. A lot. _You_ you- this you.. Yeah I’ll, shut up now I think.”  
    “No no it’s- I get it…”

Again they fell to silence, but it was almost a comfortable silence, Craig pushing himself up closer against Clara as she twisted strands of his hair into tiny, spiked braids.  
    “Clara… can I ask you something?”  
“You just did.” She cocked her head, “but no yea go ahead.”  
     “Why do you suck so bad at naming things?”  
She let out a snort, “I named _you_ , asshole.”  
       “Yea and it SUCKS.” He crossed his arms, practically pouting. Clara’s face fell.  
“I didn’t really.. Expect it to stick I guess. Sorry.”  
       “I guess I get it if having two Paytons is confusing or whatever but if he’s fucking. Sketch half the time or whatever does it really matter?”  
“No.” She frowned, “I mean you’re right it’s not that difficult, like I said I never thought it’d stick like it did, I’m sorry- Payton. I’m sorry ok?”  
         He tensed, she’d never called him that. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had, at least in a way that wasn’t angry or patronizing. The deep breath he took must’ve sounded as shaky as it felt, because she pulled him even closer, turning him the rest of the way towards her and lifting his chin until he met her eyes.  
        “You have just as much a right to be called Payton as he does, and I’m sorry that I ever acted like you didn’t.”  
That was the final fucking straw, he kissed her. It was the first time he’d done it in over a week, though not the first time he’d wanted to, and he quickly realized just how much he’d _missed_ it. So he kissed her again, and again, and a fourth time before letting his head collapse on her shoulder. “Fuck.. sorry I should’ve-” He started but she cut him off,  
     “Should’ve done that days ago? Yea but it’s ok.”  
He felt her kiss his forehead and hummed slightly, shifting to wrap his arms around her as best he could. “Yeah…” He sighed softly through his nose before tilting his head up, resting his chin on her chest as he looked at her. “So… I could do it again without getting decked in the face?”  
     Clara tried to answer, she honestly did, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “O-oh my god dude! No- I mean- yea you- hah- you can I’m sorry I’m sorry that’s just-” She took a deep breath, steadying her voice. “Payton I’m not gonna hit you. I promise.”  
     He frowned defensively, “Well you never know! It’s like your hobby or something!”  
And just like that her laughter stopped altogether, she took his face in her hands with the most serious expression he’d seen on her in awhile.  
    “Physical violence is reserved for people I don’t like. Unless you do something ridiculously awful like kill a dog or something, I’m never hurting you again ok?”  
He nodded, he liked her focusing on him but this was… more intense than he had in mind.  
    “Ok ok- jeez Clara you don’t need to go all mom-friend-shtick on me or whatever.”  
She let go of his face and rolled her eyes, “Well? Too bad asshole I like you. Now you get to deal with it. Guess you need to think things through before you win people over huh?” She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.  
     “Clara what the fuck are you doing?” There was no conviction in his voice, and he could feel his face flushing, he’d actually won her over? She wasn’t just fucking with him…  
“I… dunno.” Her blush was even more noticeable, reaching the tips of her ears. “I’m.. really happy dude. Just. yeah..”  
     “Oh.” There was a lot behind that statement that made his heart jump into his throat,  
“So uh, about kissing you again?”  
      She pressed her lips against his and it was the best answer he’d ever gotten.


	3. Chapter 3

The first time he spent the night they hadn’t really planned on it.  
   They’d done date night as per usual, that is to say ordered takeout and played video games until he won at least once, then watched whatever looked good on Netflix. The only difference was this time the sun had set about halfway through the movie.  
   Craig stretched, glancing over Clara’s shoulder out the window before settling back into his seat on her lap.  
"Oh no,” He feigned disappointment, rather poorly. “I guess you can’t give me a ride home in the dark because the visibility is low and you'd probably hit an animal or something. Wouldn't wanna sit in the middle of the road with you crying over roadkill so I guess it's just safer if I don't leave right?"  
   She didn’t look amused. “Cra- _Payton_ ,” She caught herself, she’d gotten pretty good at that. “Y’know if you wanted to crash on the couch you could’ve just, y’know, asked. So I could’ve said yes and you could’ve brought like a toothbrush or something.”  
    He shot her a dejected look, “You’re making me sleep on the _couch_?”  
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but only for a minute, “Sticks sleeps in my room. You’re allergic to Sticks.”  
   “So I get the couch?”  
“Payton.” There was the slightest hint of warning in her tone, the kind that sparked a knee jerk “shut-up-and-nod” reaction, even if that wasn’t her intention. She must’ve picked up on it, at least a little, because she curled her arms around his waist and pulled him flush against her. "This time at least… ok?”  
   He nodded begrudgingly, still making no move to get off of her, but it was early still, and that was fine.  
Clara hummed, freeing one of her arms and picking up the remote to start another movie.

Neither of them moved much, though Craig would give the occasional jump or burrow further into her shoulder. She didn’t know why he kept saying he liked horror movies when he generally got too scared to watch parts of them, but then again maybe he was using it as an excuse to get closer, either way, she didn’t mind.  
   It was nearly midnight when the credits began to roll. Clara clicked off the tv and let out a loud yawn. “It’s pretty late, you can borrow some pajamas or something if you want.”  
   Craig didn’t move, pushing his face against her shoulder with a groan.  
“Payton, you’ll be like 10 feet away from me.”  
   Silence, if anything he gripped her tighter. Slowly, Clara sat up. Sliding her legs out from under him she was met with a loud whine. “Just hang out here for like five more minutes.”  
   “You’ll say the same thing again in five minutes. C’mon and let me up so I can grab you a blanket.”  
He conceded with a purposefully exaggerated sigh, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on them as she stood. He knew he shouldn’t keep pushing but hell if that stopped him. “How come it was fine before you moved then? I went in your room all the time-”  
    “Without asking, Payton!” Clara let out an exasperated sigh, dragging her hand over her face. “Look I’m just- it’s not about you ok? But fuck dude let me set up some boundaries, I’m cool with you staying here- great with it actually I love the idea but can you just-” She quieted herself, taking a deep breath, “It’s nothing against you Payton, I promise. I just need you to respect stuff like this. Ok? That’s how good relationships happen.” She decidedly leaves off the ‘I think’ at the end of her sentence.  
    Nevertheless, Craig gives a slow nod, eyes diverting to the floor. “Yea. fine ok.”  
Clara frowned, but went and pulled a spare blanket off of her bed. He hadn’t moved when she got back. “Payton…” her voice tinged with concern, “It really isn’t about you.”  
    “I get it Clara.” He crossed his arms, sounding distinctly like someone who did not get it. She rolled her eyes and sat back down beside him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders.  
    “Dude. Talk to me here, why are you so uncomfortable with this?”  
He glowered a moment, still not looking up at her. “Why are YOU uncomfortable.”  
   “Because YOU’RE not respecting reasonable boundaries Payton! Why are we going in circles about this!?”  
“Because I don’t- I mean just- ughhh..” he tipped his head back with an aggravated groan, “Because it’s STUPID!”  
    “If having boundaries is stupid than you picked the wrong fucking girlfriend.”  
He didn’t have an answer for that. He froze. The entire _world_ froze she was going to _leave_ him. “I didn’t-” He choked, “That’s not. What I meant.”  
      Her glare softened and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, exhaling sharply. “Ok, I’m sorry, what _did_ you mean?”  
Good question, he’d have to think about that. “Sorry. I’ll uh- I’ll take the couch.”  
     Clara leaned her head against his shoulder with another deep breath, “I want this to work Payton… I _really_ really like you. I just. Need you to listen to things like this. If you have any lines to lay down in the sand I won’t cross them, but you gotta give me the same respect man.”  
    “Ok…” She felt him lean his cheek against the top of her head, “It’s not a stupid thing to ask. It’s stupid because- She always just-” The lump in his throat cut him off again, They weren’t the same and it shouldn’t matter. “It’s whatever.”  
    He didn’t need to say anything else, Clara reached out and wrapped her hand around his, lacing their fingers together. “It’s not whatever Payton,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze, “But I’m holding my ground on the boundaries thing.”  
      “That’s fair.”  
“Do you still want to spend the night?”  
     “...I still can?”  
She pulled his hand up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, “Yea, you still can.”

When Clara woke up, she was almost surprised he hadn’t made his way on to the foot of her bed. She followed the general morning routine; start the coffee maker, go for a run. He was still fast asleep when she got back.  
    When Craig woke up, he was absolutely surprised that Clara was sitting on the floor next to the couch, coffee in hand, head resting back against the cushions just inches from his.


	4. Chapter 4

“Can we go on like. An actual date sometime?”  
    Craig looked up from his phone, a little surprised she’d asked. “Aren’t we, actually dating? I thought we’d done the whole ‘what are we’ bullshit already.”  
Clara rolled her eyes with a huff of laughter, leaning further against his legs. “Yea we did don’t worry. That wasn’t my point though Payton, we’ve never been on an actual date outside of movie nights.”  
    He couldn’t help but frown, a tiny, icy feeling pricking his stomach, ignore it _ignore it._ “So what, am I supposed to be wining and dining you now? Didn’t know you were into the whole class act.”  
    She sighed, resting her chin on his knee and placing a hand over his phone so he’d meet her gaze again. “I’m not. And buying me alcohol of any kind is probably the worst possible idea so let’s not do that. I was just wondering if we could go out and do- I dunno, _something_. I like spending time with you but don’t you ever wanna just do things?”  
    Craig only shrugged, “Eh, not really.” He didn’t plan on elaborating, but Clara’s face fell in disappointment, and with a sigh he resigned, sitting up a little straighter. “But.. What’d you have in mind.” Clara smiled brightly and, alright, maybe that was worth a little effort.  
    “I’m not sure,” She paused a moment in contemplation, “There’s an arcade-fun complex about 45 minutes from here, they do food too if you wanna check that out.”  
He couldn’t help but shoot her a quizzical look “That’s a date?”  
     “Yea sure,” She shrugged, “Going out anywhere can be a date if you want it to be. I mean if you’d rather do something more generic-”  
“Fuck no-” He cleared his throat, looking away for a tic, for Christ sake calm down Payton. “I mean. Yea that- that sounds really fun actually? It’s- yea. It’s a date."  
      “...Thanks.” She scooted herself closer, sprawling over his legs and pulling him down for a kiss. “I mean that too, I wanna like. Go out and do stuff with you sometimes, and also, one fully grown adult renting one of the kid go-carts and driving really fast around the arcade is weird, but two of us? Might just pass for quirky and adorable. Some grade-A John Green Shit.”  
      “Apparently I’m ‘not allowed to drive any kind of vehicle anymore.’” He said, bitterness edging into his voice.  
“But you’re allowed to ride shotgun.”  
      He considered this a moment, “Can I beep the horn at random kids?”  
“It’s a go-kart.”  
     “Your point?”  
“Yes Payton if there’s a horn you can beep it at random kids.”  
      “Can I sit in your lap and steer?”  
“No. That’s like 3 lawsuits waiting to happen.”  
      “Wet-blanket-wonderboy can cover it.”  
“Yeah no. We aren’t doing that. You get beep privileges that’s it.”  
     “Uuuuuuuggghh. Fine.”  
Clara’s smile grew and she kissed his cheek, “Friday sound good? We can come back here for a movie after?”  
     He nodded, “Yea, that’s great. Do I have to-” No. This time he caught himself, “ _Can I_ … Crash here again? I’ll take the couch if you really want.”  
Something flickered behind Clara’s eyes, Craig wasn’t sure what it is but, something akin to adoration. He quickly decided it was his favorite way to be looked at.  
    “Yeah, absolutely you can stay.” She affirmed, and then, as an afterthought, “We’ll uh- we’ll see where you end up ok?”  
“Oh- Yeah! Yeah that’s ok that’s- great.” And so maybe he was blushing a little, but she still had that _look_ , and fuck if that didn’t feel too safe for words to describe.  
     Clara leaned in, kissing him one more time before hauling herself off the couch with a stretch. “I really do like hanging out with you wherever,” She noted, pulling the takeout menu off of the coffee table and flipping through it nonchalantly. “I just thought it might be fun to go out somewhere.”  
    “Yeah I get it, you’re right.” He smiled up at her, “Kicking your ass in every multiplayer game they have _does_ sound pretty fun.”  
Clara arched a brow at him, smile shifting into something of a smirk, “Yea? When did I say my definition of fun included letting you win?”  
     “You don’t LET me win! I just have a natural talent!”  
“Of making me like you enough to let you win.”  
      “You’re heartless you know that?” He crossed his arms with a near dramatic flourish.  
"Well you seemed to like me just fine a few minutes ago.”  
      "Maybe I just have a type, did you think about that.”  
Clara went silent. Oh, was that a bad idea? She heaved a sigh and flopped back down on the couch next to him, dropping the menu back on the table. “...Sorry.”  
     “The fuck?” Wait- she does this she apologizes. Backtrack Payton, undo. “I mean uh- why?”  
“I didn’t know I _sounded_ that mean.”  
      “Oh my god.” He couldn’t help the sharp laugh that overtook him, “Yea Clara you’re a real monster. Pure evil honestly.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You really aren’t that mean. If you need to pretend you’re letting me win to save your ego I won’t stop you.”  
      And at that, she turned and kissed him before promptly pushing him off the couch.  
“Hey! See that!? Mean!” He dusted himself off, not moving to get off the floor.  
     “Yep. I’m the worst.” she remarked, picking up the menu once again. “What do you want for dinner?”  
“Fried dog or something.”  
     “Cool I’m just gonna order for me and you can have the leftover rice I guess.”  
He groaned and pulled himself back up onto the couch. “Fine. Their chicken strips are pretty good.”  
     “Not the batter kind.”  
“Why not?”  
     “Do you not get migraines from that shit?”  
Why did she have to REMEMBER all this stuff, it’s not like it’d _kill_ him. Then again, this was by definition the opposite of sending him a box of chocolates while he was in the fucking hospital, so maybe this was a little bit better.


	5. Chapter 5

The second time he spent the night, they'd actually bothered to plan it.  
  "Ok, you win." Craig said through a mouthful of corndog, "Dates are still fun without press coverage... Would've been more fun if you let me try and break open one of the token-vault-whatever things they have on the games. Y'know the ones? Like on the outside?"   
  "I know the ones Payton, thank you for not breaking any." Clara laughed, leaning back against the cushions of the couch.   
 He made a noncommittal sound and shrugged, still, it was only a moment or so before Clara felt him nudge her hand with his. She took it with a gentle squeeze.   
He squeezed her hand twice.   
She squeezed his three times.   
Four times   
Five   
Six   
This continued until around 12 before Clara pulled him in closer and kissed his cheek instead of going for 13.   
   "...So I win?"   
Clara couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, ok Payton you win."   
   "Nice."   
He discarded the naked corndog stick onto the top of the coffee table before leaning over and settling his head in Clara's lap."Hey."   
   "Hey?"   
"You ...still like me right?"   
   Clara frowned slightly, bending forward to kiss his forehead, "Of course I do Payton, why? What's wrong?"   
"Nothing just- of course you like me I'm great, that was stupid."   
   "No no it's ok, it's not like I mind repeating it." She kissed him softly, smiling through it, "I like you a lot dude."   
Craig heaved a contented sigh, eyes slipping closed as Clara slid her fingers through his hair.  
  “How about…” Clara started cautiously, “you stay in my room tonight?”  
Craig's eyes snapped open and he shot up. “Are you being serious right now or is this some sick joke?”  
  “I'm being serious right now, you know my sense of humor is better than that.”  
Craig's smile grew tenfold as he settled his head back down in her lap. “I knew it, I'm just that irresistible huh?”  
   “Yeah, sure Payton, ok.” There was no venom in Clara's voice when she spoke, only warmth.

         Settling down next to Clara, Craig shimmied his way under the covers and scooted as close to her as possible. “So…” he looped an arm over her and let his head rest on her shoulder, “This is nice.”  
     She cocked an eyebrow at him, barely visible in the dim light from the streetlamp outside. “You comfy?”  
“Mhm. Extremely.” He punctuated the statement by nestling his head further into the crook of her neck. This was a good decision because now she only had to turn her head an inch or so to kiss his forehead.  
    “You're really warm… Like a tiny space heater.”  
“I'm two inches shorter than you you jerk.” Craig didn't move away, even as he whined, and Clara gave another kiss to the top of his head.  
    “I meant that as a compliment, I get freezing anyway. I like it. Its a good warm.”  
“What if I had a fever and was dying?”  
    “Do you?”  
“Maybe, you don't know.”  
   “Payton. You aren't dying. You're warm and I like this a lot. I'm gonna like it a whole lot less if you keep talking about dying.”  
“...Fine.”  
    Clara sighed, shifting slightly to wrap both her arms around him and rest their foreheads against each other. “You're cute.”  
"I'd say ‘unbelievably hot’ but ok I guess.”  
   “I told you you were unbelievably warm, does that count?”  
“Ha ha. You could be a stand up comedian, really.”  
   “I'm sure I could,” she smiled, “but the law needs me.”  
Craig fell silent, tensing slightly. “Yea… clearly.” Then, realizing that, alright, that was a bit harsh, he amended “You'll uh… you’ll be pretty busy if- when you get the job in town huh?”  
   “I'll be busi _er_ ,” she shrugged. As best as one can shrug while their arms are wrapped tightly around a small furnace of a human being. “I won't be sitting around doing jack shit all day.”  
   “I _like_ sitting around doing jack shit all day.”  
“Payton I can't afford to not have a job anymore.”  
   “Wasn't Claus- like from here- Thespi, wasn't he like your sugar daddy or some shit?”  
At this, Clara recoiled entirely. Her arms retracting as she practically scrambled to the other side of the bed. “No. No he fucking wasn't Payton.”  
    He frowned as she pulled away, she wasn't supposed to do that. “Well that's what _I_ thought it was.”  
“ _I_ think that maybe-” she wavered, oh, oh god was she going to cry? That wasn't the goal what the fuck? “Maybe this wasn't the best idea. I can call you a ride or something but Payton I can't-”  
  “ _NO!!!!!!”_ Craig sat up so fast his head spun,this was VERY MUCH NOT the goal. Something in Craig's features seemed to shatter entirely. This was it she was kicking him out and would never speak to him again she'd move on and forget him and-and..  
   He was shaking his head, and he heard his own voice saying “No no no no _no”_ over and over again while Clara looked on in concern, because now HE was almost crying. “I'm sorry I'm sorry it's not that ok? I was wrong o-ok?! L-look see? I said it out loud a-and everything I didn't know- please Clara _please_ don't- don't-”  
   Clara didn't move, she let the initial shock of seeing him… do whatever it was he was doing, fade into worry. She heaved a sigh, reaching out and cupping his cheek so he'd looks at her. “You're really actually sorry, or you're sorry because you don't want me to kick you out.”  
   He didn't respond aside from grabbing her wrist and keeping her hand on him with a vice like grip.  
“Payton,” she continued, voice tinged with hurt, and, on a deeper level, exhaustion. “It wasn't anything like that, I know- I know he's like another version of your best friend and I'm, me. It must've been weird to watch so if you need to talk about it just. Fine. But that…” She trailed off with another heavy sigh, staring blankly at her lap, “That wasn't ok. At all.”  
    He was silent for another moment, not letting go of her hand. “I didn't know…”  
“Didn't know _what?!_ That I have human fucking emotions?” There it was, the frustration she'd tried so, so hard not to let seep into her voice, Craig couldn't help but wince, somehow angry Clara was much, much scarier here.  
   “I- sorry. Clara. I'm really, actually sorry. I p-promise ok? Swearsies or-or whatever I won't say that shit again. See? It's fine you can stop being mad.” He finally released her wrist, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Exhaling sharply through her nose, Clara let herself flop back over next to him, patting the blanket beside her so he'd lay down. He did, instantly tangling his arms and legs around her in case she suddenly changed her mind.  
    After a minute or so filled with heavy silence she spoke. “Ok. Apology accepted.”  
“Oh! I forgot how easily you get over shit haha that's right!”  
    “Do you want me to unaccept it?” She did not sound impressed, and a little spark of panic flickered in Craig’s eyes again,  
“Nnno no! That's good! It's a good thing! That you do that!”  
    Clara rolled her eyes, kissing him once before letting them fall closed, “Go the fuck to sleep Payton.”  
“Yeah I’ll- I'll go the fuck to sleep.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I love you.”  
   Oh, well that hadn’t been what she’d planned on saying. It was the fifth time Craig had spent the night, and the third time in a row this week. After Clara had gotten her job life had been a whirlwind of busy, and, despite whining about it ten times more than the average human being, Craig had been surprisingly helpful. Tonight he'd made them dinner. _Good_ dinner, with garlic bread. _Really good garlic bread._ Maybe that had pushed her past the point of no return.  
    Craig sat, open mouthed, his fork full of spaghetti slowly lowering back onto his plate as he stared at her. Had she just said what he thought she’d said? Had she _meant_ what he thought she'd said? Slowly, his dropped jaw turned into a smile, then a full on grin as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands. “ _Oh?”  
   _“I- uh- I’m sorry. Shit that slipped out.”  
His smile grew, “Clara. It’s ok. I really like this revelation you've had. You should expand on it.” He waited for a moment, then, when she did nothing but shoot him a questioning look, “So, go on, tell me all the stuff you love about me, it's very important.”  
   Clara blushed and rolled her eyes, shoving another piece of garlic bread into her mouth before speaking. “Shud upf an ead your sphagheddi.”  
“Noo!” He exclaimed, dramatically grasping his chest, “You looovvee me! No takesies backsies Clara!!”  
    She paused, chewing and swallowing her food, “I didn't take it back…”  
“Oh.” He blushed “Ok good. Don't.”   
They dropped into silence, Clara placing her fork down, it was a little awkward to keep eating with Craig staring at he like that. Finally, _finally_ he said _something._ “I do… love you too. Just uh- just so that's, y’know, put out there, Haha um, yep. Love ya.”  
   “Oh. Ok thank fuck I thought I made this awkward.” Clara’s relieved sigh was short lived as he continued,  
“I mean you _did_ but that isn’t the point.”  
   “Oh. ...Sorry.” Her eyes shifted downwards, she stared intensely at her plate of spaghetti.  
Well that was just not ok. This was supposed to be about _him_ not about pasta. “Apology accepted.” He shrugged, “Still not the point though.” She looked back up at him, noticing just how happy he seemed at this development. “You love me.” He pointed his fork at her with a smile, “No ‘buts’ or ‘I’m only saying this becauses’ or anything! Clara are you fucking serious?? That’s GREAT!!” Craig, now fully processing exactly what she’d said, got more excited by the minute. “Hah! And- _and_ You actually really mean it too don’t you? God of course you do I’m great, this is great holy shit!”  
   “Payton-”  
“So! C’mon come on!! I was serious! You gotta tell me everything you love about me!”  
   “Payton…”  
“Actually hang on, I’m gonna record this on my phone for later-”  
    “Payton!”  
He blinked at her, slowly lowering his phone. “What?”  
    “Can we please do this after dinner? I do want to talk about it with you but I also want to eat this fucking spaghetti. I’m hungry. Alright?”  
“Fiiiine.” Though a bit deflated, Craig kept the smile on his face through the rest of dinner.

Pasta and garlic bread now consumed, Craig settled on the couch next to Clara, leaning against her as usual, but this time she spoke before he got the chance.  
     “You’re fun to be around.” She started.  
“Hmm?” He looked at her quizzically. Of course he was, he already knew that. “I mean yea. I already know that. I’m a delight.”  
    Clara rolled her eyes. “Ok. You’re _usually_ fun to be around. You are still very capable of annoying the shit out of me. But I like hanging out with you and having you stay here the past few days has been… really nice. You’re really cute when you aren’t purposefully acting like a piece of shit y’know.”  
   “Hey!” He objected, “I’m ALWAYS really cute- or- hot at least. It’s part of my charm Clara.”  
“Ok. That’s _true_ but you’re exceptionally more cute when you’re being _nice_.”  
     Craig stuck his tongue out briefly but didn’t argue. “Ok fine sure. Keep going though. About how great I am.”  
Clara gave him a pointed look before rolling her eyes and conceding. “I dunno, I just. Like being around you Payton, I do.” She paused, “...Also you made me garlic bread so I’m keeping you forever now. Sorry them's the breaks.”  
     Her bread-sentiment aside, Craig looked like he might cry, no, check that, he _was_ crying a little bit, and before she knew it he’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled himself into her lap, burying his face in her hoodie. “And you really- you mean all that right? You _actually_ like spending time with me?”  
     "Yea.” She returned the hug, one hand coming up to rub gentle circles on his back, “Of course I mean it. I- I really do love you Payton.”  
His hold on her tightened, and as muffled as it was by her jacket she could still make out what he was saying. “Fuck thank god I love you too. I can SAY that now do you know how shitty it was not saying it!? I love you, I love you and I can say it without it being weird! Right!?”  
      She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes and give him a slow nod. “Absolutely. You can. Are you.... Ok though?”  
“Hah- I-” He leaned back enough to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I am. Just. Haven’t gotten to say it in a while. Haven’t _heard_ it in…a while. This is fucking fantastic.”  
Clara smiled, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. “Well now you have to listen to it all the time so get used to it dude. You gotta-”  
He was kissing her before she could finish her thought, but really, she didn’t mind, this was more important.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YEA ITS THE SEX CHAPTER I KNOW I K N OW THank you yes i know.  
> Skip this chapter if you don't want to read any sex things. nothing plot relevant happens that I won't cover in the next two chapters.

The first time they had sex wasn’t really definable.

     It might’ve been later on the same night she’d told him she loved him, When he was still pressed against her on the couch because he didn’t want to stop kissing her, couldn’t bring himself to. It was a little like when they’d first made out, except this time things were different, this time Craig didn't have to pull back to breathe. Clara’s fingers were threaded tightly in his hair and her leg… God yes her leg was exactly where he needed it. He squirmed against it even harder, grinding his hips down because holy shit she felt so much better than a pillow.  
That was when Clara learned how _loud_ he got, soon he was whining with the desperation of a needy teenager.  
Craig had never viewed Clara in a specifically sexual light, he’d never really viewed anyone in a specifically sexual light. He’d quickly decided, however, that having this much of her attention was very, _very_ nice, and if he played up his noises a bit to hold her focus than who could blame him? Somewhere a voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to get out of his god damn pants but there was no time, stopping would kill him, he swore it would.  
She wrapped her arms around him when he let out a particularly loud, choked moan, pressing kisses to his hair, whispering against him.   
“I've got you ok? I have you, I love you Payton”  
He’d been farther along than he’d thought. He shuddered hard, riding out the high against her leg. It took him nearly a minute to form words again.  
“C-Clara I- I'm s-sorry I c-couldn't- couldn't stop Clara. S-so good- G-god I- fuck I'm sorry I-”  
She pulled him tight against her again, softly shushing him. He was still shaking but her fingers twirling through his hair felt good, _everything_ felt good.  
What surprised him was that she wasn’t mad. Or disgusted. She just said she’d do the laundry in the morning then let him shower and pick out a movie. Neither of them mentioned it again, but she still held him and reminded him she loved him before falling asleep.

    Maybe it counted the first time she’d actually touched him. Two days later she’d come home from work and one kiss had turned into several, several kissed had turned into her pressing him against the couch as he struggled to get his jeans pulled down enough to avoid a repeat of the last time. He’d been a little surprised when she offered - “Oh god.. Are you.. You're serious?”  
“Its ok if you don't want to-”  she assured, “it's just that.. What happened the other day…”  
“But Clara you- _you_ want that- I mean this is like, my dick we’re talking about.” He paused “That IS what we're talking about right? Because otherwise you've set this conversation up horribly.” -   
But once her hand was wrapped around him everything was kind of a blur. Clara was admittedly thankful that her apartment was on the outside corner of the building, and even still she worried his wailing crescendo of “Oh my god _oh my god fuck yeS CLARA PLEASE-”_ would raise noise complaints. He clung to her for nearly half an hour after he came, shuddering through a few aftershocks before falling asleep on the spot. Finally she was able to slip off the couch, just to take Sticks out and start dinner before waking Craig up and telling him to take a fucking shower, and again, that she loved him.

     A week or so before her birthday, perhaps. When she’d sat down with a deep breath and explained to him what, exactly, Progestin Induced Virilization was and how it’d left her with, in her words, “A different setup than you’re probably expecting.” As it turned out she hadn’t needed to worry. If anything Craig found it a little relieving, in all honesty his knowledge of vaginas was sub-par, he’d never held much of an interest. Still, fair’s fair and he captured her attention much more if she was enjoying herself. Having two inches of sensitive clit to work with made things easier, because at least jacking off was something he had experience in. Nothing he did was perfect, but Clara would stand by the belief that it was.

       Technically speaking from a standpoint of definitions it was almost a month later, in the cheapest motel walking distance from the ocean that Clara could find for their three day “vacation” to her old home town in Rhode Island. When she sank down onto him for the first time and had to physically hold him still. Craig grit his teeth to keep himself from full on screaming because he was _in_ her and nothing they’d done had ever felt this good but fuck he wanted to _move already._ She shook over top of him, taking fast shallow breaths.  
“Shit _shit_ \- Payton- sorry I need- I need a second oh my god I can’t- it’s- a lot-” Truth be told he wasn’t. He was slightly smaller than average if anything but this was new for Clara too.  
That didn’t make it easier for him not to cry from the frustration of being held still, hardly able to squirm underneath her. After what seemed like years she loosened her grip, rocking her hips against him much slower than he’d like. Once she sped up the smallest amount though he was gone, writhing against her. She had to kiss him to keep him from waking up everyone in the building when he tipped over the edge. It took less than a minute for her to slide a hand in between them and finish herself off. Craig barely managed to stifle a whine when she pulled herself up and collapsed next to him, even that was too much stimulation at the moment. She had to tap him on the shoulder a moment later and remind him to “Throw out the fucking condom dude oh my god.” He did. Again she told him she loved him and he managed a slurred “uhuh love you too Clara…” Before passing out on the spot.

    Then again, it also could’ve been even later down the line. When Clara came home early from work and found Craig biting a pillow and trying to fuck himself on one of his fingers. Again he found himself a little surprised she wasn’t disgusted. He found himself more surprised when she slipped the end of a condom over two of her own fingers and he learned that she was exceptionally skilled in finding the “FUCK CLARA- SHIT- YES _RIGHT_ **_FUCKING THERE!!”_** Spot. She’d had to clap a hand over his mouth that time, he came with a high pitched and unintelligible shriek. And proceeded to refuse to move for several hours.

    The first time they had sex depends on the definition of sex itself. Virginity is a social construct, and really, neither of them cared enough to determine exactly where they’d lost it along the way.


	8. Chapter 8

“Uuuuuugh fine I’ll make a stupid cake.”  
Craig managed to pull himself off of the couch, crossing his arms. “But only because you’re old and I don’t know how much time we have left.”  
    “That’s right. I’m deteriorating as we speak. I might not even survive until the cake is out of the oven.  
“Why do I have to help anyway? You made cupcakes just fine last year.”  
    “It’s my birthday and you love me.”  
He couldn’t disagree with that, but he could pout as he joined her in the kitchen. “I can eat this right?”  
Clara smiled, holding up a box-mix labeled ‘Gluten Free’. “Oh ye of little faith. Would I ask you to make what you can not partake… in?”  
     “Garlic bread.”  
“That’s different gluten free garlic bread is a crime against nature and also my taste buds.”  
     He took the box from her hands and blew a raspberry at her. She only laughed and kissed his nose. It did turn out to be a pretty good cake.  
“Dude this cake is good as shit.” Clara stated eloquently.  
    “Thanks, you can show your eternal undying gratitude to me by cleaning the kitchen, I don’t wanna.”  
Clara gasped, looking scandalized, “You come into MY home, on THIS, the day of my BIRTH? And you make me CLEAN?” She wasn’t able to hold a straight face, a smile cracked through her words about halfway through her exclamation. “I’m kidding I don’t care, I’ll throw shit in the dishwasher no problem.”  
    Craig looked at her questioningly for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re weird today.”  
“It’s my birthday and I’m forcing myself not to give a shit about anything. Instead I’m going all out on making everything as fun as possible so I don’t have to come back to the crushing reality of life until tomorrow. Please let me have this, I’m old remember? Old people get to be weird all the time.”  
     “That’s fair, you ARE really old.”  
“Yes I know. I’m more ancient than the world could ever know.”  
    “For her 25th birthday my Clara started talking about Botox injections.”  
“At least I don’t secrete old people smell-” She paused, frowning briefly, “Hey. _I’m_ your Clara now.”  
      He had to pause a minute at that. “Oh… yea. Yeah. Wow I guess- yeah.”  
“Just like how Sketch is my friend Payton but you’re _my_ Payton. Except she’s not anyone’s friend on account of being horrible.”  
      Craig stared down at his cake, “She wasn’t… that bad…”  
They both went quiet for a moment after that. This was not a can of worms Clara had wanted to open today, but she had, and now she had to lie in it. Just lay right down in the can of worms. “I… saw her blog when I was there. Media platform. Whatever…”  
     He dropped his fork, “...................y-you saw the- oh.”  
Her empire blog built on the concept of “fiancé shaming”. She targeted women, mostly radical feminist women, with the concept that she was strong and independent and marrying a weak excuse for a man who couldn’t take care of himself and threw tantrums when anything went wrong. The video documentation of the aftermaths of arguments, her half of every disagreement in the spotlight. Clara had _seen_ that. Craig didn’t move to pick up his fork, he’d lost his appetite for the time being.  
    “You know you deserve better than that right?”  
“There _was_ no better than that.” Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. “It- it was her or nobody else. _Nobody_ Clara I couldn’t- couldn’t do that I-” And there it was, he was crying. “I c-couldn’t..”  
     Clara put down her own fork and slid her chair next to his. She pulled him against her shoulder and let him cry. And cry. There were no condescending huffs of indignancy, no comments about how he needed to act like an adult and stop throwing a fit. She only held onto him and pulled him into her lap, stroking his hair and letting him calm down enough to breathe. Eventually, sobs stopped wracking through his entire frame, and he slumped against her in exhaustion. That was when she spoke. “You _do_ have somebody else now ok?” She murmured softly, turning just enough to kiss his forehead, “You have me. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”  
     His grip on her tightened again, his hands balling into fists where he clung to her shirt. It took a few more shallow, hiccuping gasps of air before he could respond. “C-Clara I- fuck- I love y-you don’t- don’t leave p- please don’t f-fucking leave..”  
    “Easy… Easy Payton it’s ok…” she soothed, reaching up and cupping his face in her hands so he’d look at her, “I love you too. I’m not leaving it’s ok, you’re ok…” She kissed his forehead again, then both of his cheeks before pulling him back into a hug. He settled there with his head resting on her shoulder, the deep feeling of tired that can only be brought on by crying seeping through him. He would’ve fallen asleep if he hadn’t felt her turn in the seat and briefly reach out towards the table.  
     “Clara..?” He asked, tone still sad, but with a tinge of humor now.  
“...Yef?” She responded with false casualty, before remembering to chew and swallow her food.  
     “You’re eating cake over my shoulder aren’t you? I thought we were having a moment here!”  
“We are. I’m sorry. It’s really good cake and also my birthday.”  
     “..........Fine. Keep eating cake while I pour my broken heart out. but only because you’re old.”  
“Thank you. I love you very much. And only partially because you understand how important food is to me on a spiritual level.”  
     “Yeah yeah happy birthday. You’re a cougar now I hope your happy.”  
“You’re 23.”  
     “Exactly. I’m in the prime of my youth Clara.”  
“You’re a whippersnapper and you’re no longer allowed on the lawn.”  
     “This is an apartment."  
“That changes nothing. I’m glad you’re feeling better though.”  
    “I’m not. I’m crushed emotionally and to be safe you shouldn’t put me down for at LEAST another 6 hours.”  
Clara laughed, finished the last of her cake before standing and picking him up with her. “If I carry you around for a few hours I get to pick the movie tonight, fair?”  
    "Fair."


	9. Chapter 9

Whether or not three days spent a few hours away from home counted as a vacation was up for debate.  
    After saving a rainy day fund for about two months, Clara could afford two nights in the cheapest motel Westerly Rhode Island had to offer. Which, considering the town, was still pretty pricey. It wasn’t the motel that mattered though, it was the _ocean_. She’d missed the beach more than anything else. There were other beaches, but not other Watch Hills or Misquamicuts. Clara’s friend Adara, bless her soul, had agreed to babysit Sticks for the weekend, Sticks wasn’t a big fan of most people, but he had a definite soft spot for her son Aero.  
   She’d been lucky enough to pick a weekend with good weather, Clara hadn’t been to the beach _with_ anybody since Abby died, but that wasn’t what she wanted to focus on. Instead she focused on enjoying her overpriced fires and ice-cream and reapplying sunscreen every fifteen minutes. She would NOT fry to death this day, she REFUSED.  
    Craig was having a field day considering it was the first time in however long he’d been to the ocean, Clara didn’t ask but it was rather obvious. His one moment of disappointment was when he said they should play chicken and Clara pointed out that you need four people for that game, and there were only two of them. She suspected though, that the suggestion was in part because he wanted an excuse to sit on her shoulders while she ran around in water deep enough he wouldn’t have to worry about falling on his face if she fell, and so she picked him up anyway.

     All that lead to their current position, Clara sitting in the shade of a beach tent reading a dollar store murder mystery novel, and Craig attempting to perfect the fine architectural detail of a sandcastle. It looked pretty good until a six year old chasing a frisbee ran through the west wing. “HEY! FUCK YOU KID! I POURED MY BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS INTO THAT!! Now nothing’s going to protect the royals from the rebellion and they’ll all be slaughtered!! That’s blood on YOUR hands ya’ little brat!” The child looked horrified, and she promptly began to scream, clutching the frisbee and running back to her understandably distraught mother.  
    Clara arched a brow at him over the top of her book, “Cut the kid a break honey, we all wanna fuck over the bourgeois, she was the only rebel brave enough to do it so directly.”  
    “That’s not funny Clara this was my life's work!”  
“And you were mad with power, it was only a matter of time before your inevitable downfall.”  
    “This is starting to sound like the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard. I’m going back in the ocean.” He didn’t move, he only stared at her as she went back to reading, “Clara are you not coming with me?”  
     “I’m gonna in a minute this part’s really good.”  
“Ok but? I’m better.”  
      “Payton I’ll be there in a minute, I’m just gonna finish this chapter.”  
“If I drown it’s on you.”  
      “It’s on the lifeguard but it will crush me for the rest of my life. Please let me finish this chapter.”  
“Fine.” Pouting, he turned and headed into the water.

    It took her longer than a minute. Maybe even _five_ minutes. That wasn’t fair, did she start another chapter? What the hell? She was supposed to be spending time with him wasn’t she?

Clara jolted up in her spot when she heard the whistle blow, oh shit. She was on her feet instantly, bolting for the water as a lifeguard swam out towards Craig, who was currently flailing around out way too deep in the water. _Shit shit shit._ Her heart beat against her ribs like a jackhammer, he was going to die, he was going to die and be DEAD. She stood frozen on the spot, unable to breathe until the lifeguard pulled Craig to shore and dropped him, rather unceremoniously on the beach.  
    “He’s fine.” the lifeguard did not sound impressed, “Just swam out too far and got a leg cramp.”  
“I could’ve DIED!” Craig interjected, his voice cracking. He’d counted on swimming out too far, but not on getting an actual leg cramp. Saltwater was painful; his eyes burned, his nose and throat felt like they’d been swarmed with fire ants, and apparently the ocean was not supposed to be swallowed in large quantities. This last bit he learned when he moved to stand. His stomach rebelled and he doubled over, coughing up a good deal of seawater.  
   Clara’s world finally blinked back into focus, he wasn’t dying, he was just an idiot. She made a mental note to yell at him at a later point in time, because at the moment karma seemed to be doing its job.  
     “See?!” Craig paused, coughing a few more times, though the second one sounded forced. “Dying.”  
“You’re fine kid,” The lifeguard rolled his eyes, “Just get some water in you, you guys need any?”  
    “We have some.” Clara sighed, she still wasn’t sure where she fell on the scale of relieved to pissed. “Thanks though, I’ve got him from here.”

    The ride back to the motel was understandably tense. Every attempt Craig made to speak was met with “Shut up and keep drinking your water.” Finally they arrived, and Clara, still glaring at him, gently helped him out of the car and more or less carried him inside. She set him down carefully before taking a few deep breaths trying to calm down. It didn’t work. “Do not. EVER. Do that again.”  
    “Do… what again?” He tried, she was unconvinced.  
“ _THAT!_ That thing you just did where you said ‘if I drown it’s on you’ and then swam out 50 feet in the fucking ocean and almost drowned! That is the thing that you need to never do again!!”  
    “I didn’t think that-”  
“No! No I didn’t thinks! No backtracking or excuses Payton!” She looked pissed. And Stressed. And… Scared. Really scared. Why was she so scared?  
     “But it wasn’t-”  
“Payton!” Her voice shook. Oh god was she gonna do that thing where she cried to make him listen and do what she wanted? This Clara did that too? No- wait this Clara didn’t usually do that. She was actually, really crying. “Do you have any idea how fucking TERRIFYING that was?” She went on, “Do you know how scared I am every fucking day of my life of losing you!? It’s not FUN Payton! Been there- done that, NOT. FUN.”  
     Oh. This was a PTSD thing wasn’t it. He really, genuinely fucked up this time. “I’m- Clara I- uh- sorry. I’m. sorry. For that. I didn’t think- I mean it wasn’t supposed to- I’m sorry. It wasn’t that fun for me either. I puked up half the ocean.”  
    She let out a long, tired sigh, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Promise me-” her voice caught and she cleared her throat, “Promise me right now that you will never. EVER. pull that shit again.”  
    “I won’t. I never want to taste salt for the rest of my life honestly.”  
She smacked his arm, “You suck. ...Are your lungs ok?”  
    “No I’m still dying.” He scooted closer to her, mostly experimenting to make sure she wouldn’t punch him, “These are my last moments alive Clara, don’t spend them being mad at me.”    
She groaned in annoyance but wrapped an arm around him all the same. “Ok you need to shut the fuck up for like an hour. Take a nap.”

     The next day was much more civil, Clara packed a lunch and off they went to the old fort on Napatree Point. Despite complaining about the walk, and about being bored, and hot, and BORED, Craig seemed excited enough to yell down a deteriorating staircase “IF THERE’S ANY MURDERERS OR MUGGERS DOWN THERE FUCK OFF, MY GIRLFRIEND HAS A GUN!” There were none of either though, so that didn’t accomplish much. He was also all too happy to pull out a sharpie and draw a crudely rendered dick on the first blank portion of wall he came across, Clara was not as amused by this as he was. He took the sharpie out again, this time when she didn’t seem to be looking, and wrote ‘Payton Esther’ in small letters on another empty part of the stone. She was looking, but he didn’t need to know that.


	10. Chapter 10

“But he's so BOORRIINNG.”  
Craig whined, “I said he needed to get out more! Not that I wanted to be the poor sap roped into it! He tried to make me play tennis once Clara! TENNIS!”  
    Clara heaved a sigh, fingers tightening around the steering wheel in frustration. “Well, you should've thought about that before coming with me. He's still my best friend, I'm going to spend time with him.”  
    “Just get better friends!”  
“Payton!” She finally snapped at him, “If you don't want to be here I can drop you off at home.”  
    It was then that Sketch spoke up from the cramped backseat of the truck. “Actually yea, If you _could_ do that Clara that'd be great, I was kind’ve in the middle of going over some important documents before this, usually I have to figure out a schedule for socializing-”  
    Clara slowed down, turning slightly to shoot him an incredulous look. “Not you Payton. Him Payton.” She jerked her thumb towards Craig. “You actually _do_ need to get out more.”  
    For a second it looked like he was going to object, but he didn’t. Clara meant well at least and this wasn’t really worth starting an argument over. It was just minigolf, maybe he’d get lucky and they’d be done with enough time for him to look over the papers one more time before his afternoon meeting.

    The game got off to a decent start, although Clara’s first swing was much too hard for the 10 foot long green space to contain. Sketch had made it relatively close to the hole. Or at least it’d been close before Craig took his shot. While walking back he’d ‘accidentally’ kicked it in the opposite direction.  
     “Oh shit.” Craig said, kicking the golf ball a second time, “It just keeps happening. I’m so sorry.” He kicked it again, “I hope this doesn’t inconvenience your next shot!"  
     Clara groaned, dragging a hand down her face before picking Craig up and placing him back at the starting point. “Ook that’s enough of that.”  
“Enough of what! Enough unnecessary manhandling maybe! Golf isn’t a contact sport and that’s a foul!!”  
    “Oh please you love being carried around. You said so the other day. Your exact words were ‘Man I never knew how much walking sucked until you started carrying me around.’”   
     This might’ve been tolerable if a similar exchange didn’t occur at every single hole following the first. Sketch would do pretty well, Craig would make a botched attempt at sabotage, Clara would tell him to “Cut it the fuck out”, and Sketch would slowly grit his teeth a little harder and hold the club a little tighter each time Craig showed the inability to cut anything the fuck out.

    It all boiled down to hole 18, it wasn’t certain who was in the lead, between Craig trying his very hardest to ruin Sketch’s shots as often as possible, and Clara being distracted by trying to stop him from doing exactly that, they were all doing pretty horribly. That was until Sketch got a hole in one. Until then he’d tried to be sportsman like, he really had, he’d told himself to just let it go and rise above Craig’s need to be an intolerable asshole, but really, the irony was just too perfect.  
   “HAH IN YOUR _FUCKING_ FACE CRAIG! TRY AND RUIN THAT!!” He pointed from Craig to the ball, then back again. “What are you going to do now that you can’t fuck up my shot? That’s a whole game of wasted effort considering I’m pretty sure I just kicked your ass!!”  
   Up until then Clara had acted as a diplomat. She’d done her best to keep the peace. She completely forgot that goal for a moment because this was hilarious. Her club hit the ground as she doubled over laughing.   
   Craig on the other hand, looked a little like he might cry. He tossed his club on the ground and turned to walk away with a “Well fuck you guys too.” but Clara wasn’t having it. Still laughing slightly she caught him before he could get too far away, hauling him up over her shoulder.  
   “Nope! None of that! Not today!” She held him tighter as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp. “You’ve been an asshole this entire time Payton. You don’t get to play the victim, can’t do it, won’t let ya.”  
   “I’LL PLAY WHATEVER I WANT! I KNOW WHEN I’VE BEEN WRONGED!”  
“Great,” Sketch added, still smiling slightly as he looked up at where Craig was stuck on Clara’s shoulder, “So you know you haven’t been wronged and that I beat you fair and square- or- as fair as you’d let me at least. Glad we have that settled.”  
    Craig gasped, scandalized, “CLARA HE’S BEING A DICK! WHY AREN’T YOU CALLING _HIM_ OUT ON IT?? HUH?”  
“He’s being a dick in RETALIATION, you were just doing it because you wanted to.” She smiled apologetically at Sketch, “Congrats on the win, sorry about the hoopla.”-  
    “IT’S NOT HOOPLA! I’M RESPONDING TO INJUSTICE! THIS IS POLICE BRUTALITY!”-  
“It’s ok…” Sketch, still a little triumphant, looked from Clara to Craig, and then back to Clara. “You’re uh… you got… _this??”  
    _“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “He’s fine.”  
“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! DO MY FEELINGS EVEN MATTER TO YOU!?”   
    He couldn’t see it from behind her back, but she side-eyed him with every fiber of her being. “Yes. Very much so. That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want. If you actually need to talk about this we can later, but right now I think you just want me to coddle you and you’re mad I won’t. And you’ll live through the disappointment, you can even pick the takeout we order later.”   
    “........Fine.”  
Clara turned back to Sketch, “I’m gonna grab some water bottles from the vending machine and then we can head out, I know you have a thing later. Hope this wasn’t _too_ unbearable.”  
     “Nah it was.. Kind of fun actually? I think uh… Thanks? Yea. Thanks Clara. This was fun.”

What wasn’t fun was the ride back, because Craig insisted that the only way he’d stop being upset was to play Britney Spears at maximum volume the entire time. No one got to talk.


	11. Chapter 11

Blood. There was blood everywhere.   
  It had started as a few drops falling from the sky, which had been odd but not entirely implausible. Usually blood didn’t set Clara off at all. But then the roaring sound started. At first she thought it was just her ears, but it wasn’t. It was the sky, which cracked apart with the sound of a scream she knew all too well, a rising shriek cut off into the gurgling sound of blood, more blood. Just like before, it was always the same. It poured from the sky in sheets, raining down on the pavement. Freezing to the touch, blood wasn’t supposed to be freezing. Like dry ice it blistered Clara’s skin where it hit, and she opened her mouth to scream. This proved ineffective, the sound dying in her throat, her mouth hanging open, filling with blood.  
   It tasted like acid and she doubled over, retching up more blood than she’d taken in, some of the blood was her own. Suddenly it wasn’t just the disembodied screams of Abby’s voice, it was her own, not coming from her mouth but from the sky, and her own lungs filling with blood in Abby’s place. Another voice, still her own, echoing loud and thunderous over it all, “THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD’VE BEEN! _THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD’VE BEEN!”_

   The scream that woke her up was her own too, but this one came directly from her mouth as she shot up in a cold sweat, eyes burning with- tears. Just tears. Just sweat. Not blood.  
   “....Clara?” Craig stirred next to her, even he couldn’t sleep through that, “Wh- hey uh- the fuck?”  
He took a moment to sit up, blinking at her in the dim light. Oh. Oh shit something was very wrong.  
    She wasn’t aware of him at the moment, her eyes were squeezed shut as she attempted to take deep breaths, only really accomplishing shaking gasps of air. Her fingers knotted in the sheets as she pulled her knees up to her chest, she could do this, she’d done this before.  
   Slowly, Craig got up, backing carefully into the bathroom and filling the cup by the sink with water. Returning he found that Sticks had taken his place on the bed and was currently licking tears off Clara’s face. He took his moment of jealousy but even he knew this wasn’t the time to get mad at the dog for doing his job. Or at least not to do so out loud, he still glared at him slightly as he walked back over, opting to sit on the edge of the bed on Clara’s side.  
   Gently, he tapped her on the shoulder, speaking in what he hoped was a calm enough tone. “Hey it’s- Clara it’s just me ok? Uh- please don’t hit me..” She winced, wrapping her arms around Sticks instinctively before opening her eyes, blinking the tears away until the blurry shape in front of her came into focus.  
    “P-Payton? Shit _shit_ I’m sorry I’m s- so sorry did I wake you up? Fuck I’m- Sorry…”  
“No uh-” Great. Now what? “I mean you did but it’s- That’s ok? I got you water…” He held out the cup and she took it with shaking hands. Thank god, he hadn’t wanted to spill it everywhere but it’d been getting hard to keep still. The second she took it he turned and sneezed, three times. Stupid fucking dog… “Uh. Sorry.” He gestured at Sticks, “This asshole am I right?”  
    Clara managed a laugh at that, though it sounded a bit forced. “He’s a good boy. Not his fault your immune system is shit.”  
“He’s speeding the process along. I’m dying from the inside out.”  
    Clara’s face practically turned grey, she shivered and gripped her water a bit tighter. “Payton… Don’t. Not- not right now…” Too far? Too far. Whoops.  
“Sorry-” He cut himself off with another sneeze, wincing at the poor timing. “Sorry I’m. I’m fine. I’d be better if he’d stop fucking shedding gallons of fur but I’m not dying ok? Promise.”  
    She nodded, sipping at her water before reaching over him and setting it down on the nightstand. She didn’t go all the way back to her seat, instead she turned on her side, laying her head on his lap. “I… Really don’t wanna go back to sleep I think. You can- if you want. I just won’t probably.”  
    He froze for a moment, not entirely sure of what to do with his hands. He finally settled on running one through her hair and trying not to yank on any tangles in it. This position felt almost backwards, Clara was the rock here wasn’t she? Well, he figured he could at least try.  
    “That’s ok uh… Do you wanna get up and watch a movie or something? We have the stuff for muffins I think? I could make those? Wait- shit you have work tomorrow maybe you should call in.”  
    She smiled slightly, as best she could, “You just want me to hang out with you tomorrow.”  
“Well yeah, duh, but you also probably shouldn’t show up to work half asleep.”  
    “I’ll call in… were you serious about the muffins?”  
“Yeah I mean- I’ll make ‘em if you want?” Craig shrugged, focus shifting to getting his fingers unstuck from her hair without pulling on it.  
    “...Oh my god I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Muffins made and Disney movie selected, they settled in on the couch. Craig, having taken a decent amount of Claritin, conceded to Sticks joining them provided he stayed on the floor.  
    Clara had wrapped herself around him and was currently resting her head on his chest, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat as best she could while still paying attention to Oliver & Company in the background. To Craig, this still seemed a bit backwards, but not necessarily bad. Being the comforter rather than comfortee had its upsides, and Clara ever so often lifting her head to kiss his cheek and whisper a “Thanks Payton… For this.” was one of them.


	12. Chapter 12

He’d made a definite mistake.  
     Ok, so Clara’d been putting in some overtime lately. Which meant she wasn’t at home as much. Which meant she wasn’t with him as much. Which was not ok. However, Craig quickly learned that eating half a loaf of bread and using a migraine as leverage to keep her home for the day was NOT worth it. He groaned into the pillow he’d buried his face in. The noise from the air conditioner was grating and all together too loud. Had it always been too loud? Even with the lights turned off the room was still far too bright, he didn’t even bother lifting his head anymore. “Claraaaaaa…. I’m gonna die. My skulls gonna explode and I’ll die. You’ll need to clean up the brain chunks after I’m gone.”  
    Clara only sighed, crossing the room and sitting down beside him as gently as she could, he still whined as the mattress shifted. “Payton. You kinda did this to yourself sweetheart. I’m not sure what you want from me here.”  
   “A little sympathy and compassion maybe? These are my last moments.”  
“You have about 20 ‘last moments’ until the Excedrin should kick in. I think you’ll make it.”  
   “No I WOONN’T” He rolled over to look at her, wincing and shutting his eyes again because _fuck way to bright._ “Turn the lights back off you jerk..”  
“The lights _are_ off Payton.”  
   “Well turn off the fucking sun. My eyes are being stabbed out of their sockets.”  
She didn’t answer, and he almost panicked when he felt her get up. “I’m not leaving,” She whispered, “I’ll be right back ok?”  
    He only whined again, and alright maybe a few tears were beginning to burn the corners of his eyes, but god damn his head _hurt._ He was focused on pressing the heels of his hands as hard as he could against his eyes without blinding himself when Clara returned.   
    Again she sat beside him and gently pulled his hands away with a murmur of “Jesus Christ honey don’t liquefy your eyeballs.” Before laying a cool washcloth over his face. “That’s about as close to turning off the sun as I can get without imploding the entire solar system and killing us all.”  
    “.............Thank you.”  
She settled next to him, wrapping an arm around him as carefully as she could. Immediately Craig curled into her, clenching his fist in her shirt as the throbbing pain in his head worsened with the movement. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep Payton, let the meds kick in.” She spoke softly enough that it didn’t hurt to listen, that was already an improvement. He managed a weak “ok.” before letting his mind shut off, finally falling asleep through the haze of pain.

    He woke up an hour or so later, still groggy and a bit nauseated, but no longer convinced he was on death's door. Clara hadn’t moved, or at least it didn’t seem like she had, the cup of water resting on the nightstand said otherwise. He moved slowly, testing the waters, it wasn’t excruciating anymore, but he didn’t have the energy to make it farther than rolling sideways and resting his head on her chest.  
   “Hey,” She still spoke in a whisper, not wanting to risk making things worse, “You alright?”  
“Mhh..” He hoped that sounded affirming enough, he didn’t feel much like elaborating.  
     It must’ve been, because she reached over and grabbed the water, holding it out to him.  
“You need to drink some, it’ll help.”  
    Making another noncommittal sound he complied. She was right. Upon awaking his throat felt gummed up and uncomfortable, the water helped with that much at least. “Do we have any Mountain Dew in the fridge?” Was his first coherent sentence.  
    Clara snorted a laugh. “Glad you’re feeling better. We do, you can have some later, caffeine actually isn’t the worst idea.” She stopped smiling though, her face flickering from concern to contemplation, “So… are you ready to talk about why you thought sitting down and eating half a fucking breadloaf was a good idea?”  
    Ouch. Why couldn’t she just be stupid? This would be a good time for her to be stupid. “I… Thought it was the gluten free kind?” He tried. She didn’t look impressed. No dice.  
    “You mistook it for the clearly labeled bread in completely different packaging that I’ve had in my kitchen since we started dating?”  
“Yyyyyyyyyy...es..?”  
    “Payton.”  
“..........You needed a day off. You’ve been working nonstop, you’re gonna turn into Boringfuck Mc’shitski at this rate. I did this for you. You’re welcome.”  
    She somehow managed to look even less impressed. “So it’s about the overtime?”  
“Yes. I just told you. I did this to save you from yourself. You can thank me anytime now Clara.”  
     She huffed in frustration before sitting up and pulling him into her lap, cupping his face and pressing their foreheads together. “Payton. Is this or is this not because I’ve been busier and had less time to hang out with you?”  
     “It’s uh…… it’s” He couldn’t meet her eyes at this point, opting instead to look down at his own hands. Clara let out another sigh and hugged him tighter. Craig rested his chin on her shoulder and decided that staying quiet seemed like the best course of action.  
     “I’m broke as shit and I like my job,” She started, “I’m doing something I enjoy and trying to make some extra money from it. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you and want to spend time for you, it just means I have other things going on in my life.”  
      He wrapped his legs around her waist and clung to her, taking a few deep breaths before speaking, “But- But this is _every day!_ Clara how can I not think that- that you, I dunno- don’t-” _d_ _on’t love me anymore._ He couldn’t quite get that last part out. It hung in there air like smoke after someone left a plastic container on the stove by accident and part of it melted and made the whole kitchen smell bad.  
    “Ok.” Clara said, finally breaking the burnt-plastic silence. “I get it. Payton I’m sorry. I got caught up in doing something with my life again and, yeah, I got a little carried away. I don’t need to be doing ten hours a day, you got me. I’m sorry you felt like it was because of you. I can tone it down, work extra two- _maybe_ three days a week, But I’m not fucking abandoning you alright? I promise.”  
    He nodded, “I just- I missed you and- and I thought…”  
“Payton.” Her tone was firmer now, “I need you to listen right now. I love you very, very much. I’ll still make time for you. But you can’t do this shit again. You can’t just make yourself sick so I have to drop everything without notice. I still have to actually do my job.”  
    “But-”   
“No buts. I’m being serious right now. You can always ask me to make time for you when you need it but this? Kinda manipulative. Obviously not fun for either of us. Don’t do it again.”  
     “...Ok.”  
“Promise?”   
     “Sure.”  
She pulled back, looking him in the eyes. “ _Promise.”_  
     “Fine- alright. I promise.”  
She nodded, satisfied, and kissed him briefly before picking him up. “Ok. Let’s get you some soda and a dinner you aren’t allergic to.”


	13. Chapter 13

“........................You… really do love me right? Not just because I’m what’s available?”  
Clara regretted speaking as soon as the words left her mouth. Craig turned to her, clearly some sort of upset but unreadably so.  
     “What?” He put his phone down and faced her fully, “Of course I love you? Clara why is that even a question?”  
She hesitated, shifting her eyes down to the floor. “I- I dunno. I just think about it. Sometimes. It’s stupid.”  
     “Yea, it really is.” He slid forward, grabbing one of her hands. “Stop thinking about it sometimes. Stop thinking about it any times. It’s dumb Clara. I absolutely fucking love you.”    
      “It’s. Yea. Just when you were with… Clara. You said it was always her or nobody. I just hope you don’t, y’know, think the same thing about me…”         
“Clara.” He scooted forward even closer, “Clara, Clara, Clara.” he climbed into her lap, squishing her face in his hands, “Are you done being stupid now? Are you finished with that?”      
      “Yes?”  
“Ok good. Because that was terrible.” He stayed where he was, but opted to let go of her face. “I could’ve asked you the same thing, we both know I’m a cooler, more attractive version of this dimensions sad excuse for a Payton. How do I know you’re not just leveling up?”  
       She looked hurt for a second, and opened her mouth to object. Craig beat her too it though. “Yea, see, how does that feel?”  
“...Bad. You’re right, I’m sorry.” She resigned. Both of them slipped into silence for a moment before Craig spoke again.  
      “If it makes any difference… I’ve known since October. Before… all that shit happened.”  
“...Known what?”  
     “That I was _into you_ Clara,” He said with an exasperated sigh, “It felt… Gross for awhile. Like I was cheating or something. So I just kinda banked on telling myself it was because you were… y’know, her.” He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck, “You’re really not. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you wear makeup- not that that’s, bad.- just. You’re also kinda ripped? Which is nice she couldn’t even carry her own shopping bags. I’m off topic now.”  
     Clara managed a smile, “You just like that I can pick you up.”  
“That’s true. I won’t actively deny that.” He leaned in and kissed her, “But I do love you a lot ok? So stop being dumb.”  
     “I love you too,” she started, then laughed sheepishly, “I’ve uh. Known since my _last_ birthday. But then you read my diary and I kinda wanted to break your face for awhile.”                
     “Well!” He threw his hands up before crossing his arms and pouting, “How _else_ was I supposed to know if you thought I was cool.”  
“Payton. I’ve never once in my life thought that you were cool.”       
      He gasped, scalded. “How could you _say_ that! I’m the coolest person you know! You can’t deny it I know the people you hang out with!”  
“You don’t know _all_ my friends. Some of them smoke the dank kush and fight possums at 1am in the morning.”  
     “That’s a lie. You’re lying to me right now.”  
“I am not.” She said with a laugh, “But the point is I love you. Even though you’re kind’ve an asshole.”  
      “That’s really cheesy. Like romcom cheesy. Hey, wanna watch a romcom?”  
“Payton I’m not in a place where I’m emotionally strong enough to comfort you when you start crying during ‘The Notebook’.”  
       “You don’t know I was gonna pick that one. There’s more than one romantic comedy on the planet.”  
“Unfortunately you’re right.” There was no real spite in her words,  just laughter. “But hey, really I’m- I’m sorry. About doubting you. I guess- I mean I know I was never her replacement but. I was also the closest person there.”  
        “That’s really not how it was Clara. For awhile- no offense but for awhile even thinking about you fucking hurt by extension.”  
“I’m.. Payton I’m sorry-”  
        “Nah, don’t be,” he waved her off, “It was usual post break up stuff, you cry a lot, eat some ice-cream, violently shit for an hour because you ate too much ice-cream, think about just fucking offing yourself, cry some more, listen to sad songs-”  
     Clara’s face shattered, “You…. you _what?_ ”  
“I’m lactose intolerant Clara, it wasn’t the best idea but sometimes Ben and Jerry are the only friends a guy has-”  
    “Payton!” She grabbed his hands, looking horrified, “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”  
He looked down at her, a bit surprised at her sudden change in demeanor, “What? The ‘offing myself’ thing? It’s obviously not like I actually _did_ it Clara.” He gestured to himself, still present and alive. “It’s just one of those normal ‘post getting dumped’ feelings.”  
    “Payton that’s- that is not how people normally react to breakups.”  
“You put yourself in the hospital when you got dumped- or, did the dumping? How did that even work?”  
     “I- I don’t know but that’s not the point! I didn’t put myself in the hospital on purpose! I definitely never wanted to _die!”  
_ “Really? That’s like, the usual post-break-up nihilism and depression though isn’t it?”  
    “Payton. Thinking about suicide isn’t usual. That’s terrifying.”  
“Well I’m not thinking about it _now_!”  
     “Yeah but- but just-” Clara didn’t really have a response. Holy shit was that really how bad things had been after? She stopped herself, took a deep breath, freaking out wouldn’t help anything. He was ok at the moment. That was what mattered. Still, she pulled him into a nearly crushing embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.  
     “Clara.” He started after a moment, “I’m fine. Really.”  
“Do you want me to let go?”  
      “....No. Don’t do that.”  
“Didn’t think so.” She did however, pull back enough to kiss his forehead. “I’m…” She hesitated a moment, wondering if saying it out loud would jinx things. “I’m glad you’re here. In this- this general plane of existence? I mean? Dimension? Whatever, I’m glad you’re in it.”  
       “Yeah…” For a moment, he looked contemplative, oh god she’d just said she was glad he got ripped away from everything he’d ever known or loved, Clara what the fuck were you thinking?! But then, he smiled. Leaning forward and kissing her again, “Yeah, I am too.”


	14. Chapter 14

“We need to talk.”  
    Craig heard Sketch sigh on the other end of the phone, “What’s this about Craig?”  
“Clara said she wants me to move in with her.”  
   “Congratulations? I thought you already had.”  
“Yeah. Me too, but she also said since I live here now she needs me to help with rent.”  
   “So…?”  
“So I need money.”  
   “So get a job!”  
“I don’t have time for that!” Craig huffed, “I’m a busy guy.”  
   Sketch went silent for a moment, thinking very deeply about how ridiculous that statement was. “Craig… You- you don’t _do_ anything. You sit around playing video games and losing.”  
   “That’s not true!” Craig sounded scandalized, “I _also_ fuck your best friend! And let me tell you buddy she’s-”  
“Goodbye Craig!” There was a ‘ _click_ ’, and Craig was left with a dial tone.

Not to be deterred, Craig moved on to Plan B: The Direct Approach. Which entailed Catching the bus into Sketch’s town and showing up in his office. Turning all the lights off and facing his chair away from the door for effect. He accidentally scared the shit out of a cleaning lady at first, but it was worth it when Sketch returned from a meeting, and Craig was granted the opportunity to spin around with an ominous “Hello Payton.” and startle him into dropping the monstrous stack of papers he was carrying all over the floor.   
   “Craig.” Sketch glared up at him from where he was picking up the scattered documents, “Do you EVER ask yourself if half of the things you do are really fucking necessary?”  
    “I thought I didn’t do things in the first place?”  
Sketch let out a frustrated groan, grabbing the last of the papers of the floor before setting the stack down on his desk. “I’m not giving you money Craig. Showing up in my office and trying to give me a heart attack has, surprisingly enough, not changed that. If you want cash you’re going to have to _work_ for it like everybody else.”  
   Craig whined, spinning the chair around a few more times, “But that’s BORING! We can’t all sit around doing paperwork 24/7, that’s your shtick.”  
“What did you do when you ran _your_ factory then Craig?”  
    “Well, unlike you I didn’t have a stick up my ass about ‘conservation’ and ‘protecting the environment.’” He said, using air quotes as if they’d prove his point. "Not to mention my factory practically ran itself, all I had to do was sit back and profit.”  
     Sketch rolled his eyes, “Great, ok, you were lazy and had an unsustainable operation, good job. The point hasn’t changed, you need to get a job.”     
Craig frowned, thinking a moment before his expression changed to a near sinister smirk. “You know, if Clara kicks me out I could always just move back into the mansion. Is that what this is about? Do you miss me? I’m flattered.”  
    Sketch looked thoroughly disgusted. “....Fine. Listen. I’m not just going to _give_ you money-”  
“You gave Clara money all the time!”  
   “She needed help when I did. At least she was _trying_ . Y’know, like _you_ should be. Now let me finish. I’m not just going to give you money, but if you’re really that desperate I’ll think of something I can hire you to do. As a _job._ ”  
     “Fuck no!” Craig glared at him, disgusted. “Even if I _did_ want to get a job I wouldn’t work for you if my life depended on it! There’s gotta be something else.”  
Sketch sighed, spouting off the first thing that came to mind; “Dance the macarena in  the middle of the road while dressed in a hotdog suit?”  
      “.......With, or without accompanying music?”  
Sketch stood in shocked silence for a moment before resigning to acceptance. “Of course, _that_ you’ll do.”  
     Craig shrugged, “I can’t provide my own hotdog suit.”  
“I can get you one. But ok, I guess we’re doing this?”  
    “I mean yeah- wait… Why do you have a hotdog suit so readily available? Are you a part of some bizarre fetish subculture I’ve never heard of? Because I’m not wearing it if it’s been to any swingers parties.”  
     “What? No- what the fuck is a-” Sketch shook his head, “You know what I actually don’t want to know. We were shipped the wrong order by a promotional event company, and no one’s bothered to get rid of it yet.”

    Clara was just getting home from work when her phone went off.

Payton(#1): [txt] Download Video Attachment? [y]/n

She opened the video. It was Craig. In a hotdog suit. Performing the macarena in the middle of a crowded street.

Clara: [txt] What… Is he doing?  
Payton(#1): [txt] The macarena obviously.  
Clara: [txt] Ok yes I can see that I was alive and well in the 90s. Why is this happening? I can understand everything but the hotdog honestly.  
Payton(#1): [txt] He didn’t want to do any actual work.

“CLARA I’M HOME!!”  
    She’d been about to ask what doing actual work had to do with any of this when Craig slammed open the door, hair still mussed from the aforementioned hotdog attire. Looking proud of himself, he slammed a check down on the coffee table. “I DID it! I got rent money! You don’t have to kick me out now!”  
   She stared at him in disbelief, “I… I appreciate it Payton. You really stepped up to the plate.” Her acting wasn’t very convincing, as a smirk kept creeping its way onto her face. “So, go on and tell me all about the work you must’ve done for this.”  
Craig sat down, propping his feet up on the coffee table, “Well, I’ll tell you this, the labor was taxing. I’m a real honest hardworking guy Clara, it’s just how I am.”  
    She looked from him to her phone, then back again. She turned the screen towards him so he could see the video.  
Somewhere not too long after, Sketch received another text.

Craig: [txt] Fuck you.


	15. Chapter 15

None of their dates were really typical.  
    First it was arcades and go-karts, now they’d stepped it up to paintball, wow, Clara thought, They should really throw lazertag on the list sometime. She didn’t have much time to meditate on this as red paint splattered against the wall next to her. Immediately she turned, hitting the opposing team member in the shoulder and taking them out. They flipped her off with a good natured laugh and began the surrendering walk of shame off the field.  
    Her thoughts turned back to date ideas as she flitted from corner to corner, advancing into enemy territory. They should go to an amusement park. Six-Flags or something, get on some roller-coasters. Yeah, that sounded really nice actually. Her thoughts wandered there for a bit, could she afford Six-Flags? Doubtful. She was still wondering about this when something hit her shoulder. Shit. She started to raise her arms when she realized, it wasn’t red paint on her arm, it was blue.  
    “Payton!? Dude what the fuck?”  
“Gotcha! Hah-” His victory celebration was a brief one.  
    “We’re on the same _team_ Payton! Why would you _do_ that?”  
“I don’t play teams babe, I’m lookin out for numero un _oO-OW! Clara-_ ” She promptly shot him in the stomach.  
    “I’m not playing teams either I guess.”  
“That doesn’t count! You’re already out!”  
    “Rules clearly don’t apply here so I don’t know what the problem is.”  
“Wow ok, hostile much?”  
    “You _shot me. While on my team._ ”

This, while obviously a very important argument, did not seem to amuse the spectators waiting for their turns for the course.  
    “Just walk off already! You’re both out!”  
Clara turned, glaring at the man who spoke through the fence, “Stay out of it!”  
   “Lady. You’re out. My kids are waiting for **_oh what the fuck-”_** Paint exploded across his chest, Craig had shot him.  
“Payton!”  
   “He was being a douche!”  
Clara groaned and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the fence, “We have to go right now immediately before we get kicked out.”  
    “What- Why?”  
“You shot a civilian!”  
   “With PAINT! Jesus!”  
“It still probably hurt the guy! God why can’t you just..” She ducked, pulling him behind one of the course walls close to a different part of the outer fence. “Look we’ll talk about it later. Ditch your armor.”  
    “Really Clara?” He looked at her skeptically “Listen I know paintball can hype up the adrenaline but I never figured you for an exhibitionist.”  
She rolled her eyes, already out of her protective gear “I fucking hate you. We’re hopping the fence.”    
   “Ohhhh.” He started fumbling with his vest, “Even better. ….You don’t actually hate me though right? You don’t?”  
“No. I don’t actually hate you. I hate that you just fucking _shot a civilian_. But not you personally.”  
   “Ok, good.” He finally managed to undo his gear, unceremoniously dumping it on the ground. “Just checking.”  
Clara was already working her way up the fence. “You’re good to climb this right?”  
   “Psh, of course I am,” He boasted, finding his first foothold, “I’m stronger than you give me credit for.” He then slipped and fell directly on his ass. “On second thought you should probably carry me. For safety.” He raised his arms and looked up at her expectantly.

     It took work, but soon enough she piggybacked Craig up the inside of the fence and about halfway down the other side. From there jumping was easy enough, the fence itself was only 10 feet tall. Clara hit the ground running, pulling Craig along with her, She practically threw him into the passenger seat of the truck before taking off out of the parking lot. Silently she prayed the man he’d shot hadn’t seen their faces very clearly, but either way she wasn’t going back there anytime soon. She glanced over at Craig, who was already looking at her with a poorly suppressed smile. That was when she came to the realization that she had, in fact, pulled some ridiculous low budget spy movie shit in order to escape an awkward meeting with a paintball field manager. Her own smile grew, and soon they were both laughing so hard Clara had to pull into the parking lot of a dunkin donuts.   
    Once she managed to get her laughter under control Clara slid back in her seat with a deep breath. “We can’t go back there. Like, ever, at all.”  
“What? Why not? They can’t prove anything!”  
   “Babe you shot a man and hopped a fence- actually scratch that- you shot a man then made me carry you over the fence.”  
“I _let_ you carry me. You love carting me around. It’s actually weird how much enjoyment you get from picking me up.”  
    “The amount of times you tell me I need to pick you up on a daily basis is ridiculous Payton.”  
“I know, the things I do for love right?”  
    She only rolled her eyes, “Do you wanna grab coffee since we’re here?”  
“Can’t. They switched to almond milk, we just escaped near death this would be a shitty time to die.”  
    “Fair,” She opened the door and hopped out “I’m getting a frozen whatever and a sandwich but I’ll grab you a soda.”  
“See if they got code red!” He added before she shut the door.   
    On her way in she turned back and called out “You know every day you turn into of of a stereotypical 15 year old!”  
Craig opened his own door and leaned out, “That says more about you than me!”  
    Clara only rolled her eyes before walking inside.


	16. Chapter 16

“Pssst, Clara, psst hey,”  
Craig leaned over her shoulder from where he sat next to her. She would’ve told him to be quiet but the movie hadn’t started yet.  
   “Yes Payton?”  
“We should play the shoulder game.”  
   Clara can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. He’s impossibly cheesy for someone who’s lactose intolerant. “Oh really,” She played along, “the shoulder game?”  
   “Yea! Y’know where I have to count how many shoulders there are. That game.”  
“Hmm…” She brought a hand to her chin in consideration, “That _does_ sound like a good and challenging way to pass time. I’ve always wondered about our collective amount of shoulders.”  
   “Right!?” He beamed, “Me too isn’t that crazy?” He began counting, a little too loud, but only for those who wanted to watch the trailers. “One,” he tapped his own shoulder, “two,” and his other one. “Three…” His hand was on her right shoulder now and Clara let out a quiet laugh when his arm slid around her back, “Four.” This was nice, though she supposed she'd view any affection as nice, but-  
   “Fiiiive…” But here he was tapping the person next to her, “Six, seven, eight…” and the person next to them and now he was climbing over her to tap more confused theater goers on their unsuspecting shoulders. “Nine, ten…”  
    Clara rolled her eyes, pulling her arms around his waist and settling him onto her lap, “Ooook that’s enough Payton.”  
“What? That’s only like ten shoulders! There’s way more than that!”  
   She sighed, looking apologetically to the patrons beside her, all of whom were currently sliding as many seats to the left as possible. She did not let go of Craig.

The movie started soon enough and he settled down, she kept a tight hold on him and eventually his head found its way onto her shoulder. Clara did have the habit of bouncing her leg, but he didn't mind. During the more fast paced scenes it was like one of those moving seats at 4D theme park theaters. But those seats wouldn't also squeeze his hand if he got scared. _If_ , not that he ever really would.  
   Clara opted not to ask whether the shoulder counting had been a ploy to wind up in her lap, or if he would've actually kept going until someone threw them out of the theater. Part of her didn't really want to know.  
   By the end of the film it was more or less forgotten, and as they climbed into the truck Clara's mind had found it's way to something much more interesting…..  
“Hey wanna get food?”  
   “Yea, not having to put effort into dinner sounds good.”  
“Cool we’re stopping at Mcdonalds.”

And that was how they wound up in a fast food drive through, Craig leaning over from the passenger seat and yelling “GIVE US THE SHITTIEST HAPPY MEAL TOY YOU HAVE!” at a tired, underpaid teenager. The request was taken literally, and they received a plastic figurine of the poop emoji.  
    “I’m gonna glue this to your dashboard.”  
“Please, _please_ don’t glue that to my dashboard.”  
    “Why not? This relic needs some personality Clara. I’m serious how does this truck still run?”  
“Payton.” She rolled her eyes, taking a hand off the steering wheel to grab a handful of fries, “When you can drive, and you have a car, you can glue the plastic poop action figure to the dashboard of that car.”  
    “Pssh, I _had_ a car. I had _twelve_ cars. And they were _nice_ cars Clara, more worthy of adornment than this hunk of junk.”   
“Payton, do not glue the plastic poop emoji to my dashboard.”   
     “But-”  
“Do not. Put the poop emoji. On my dashboard.”  
    “...Fine.”

It was at precisely 7am the next morning that Clara slid into the front seat of her truck, and found herself face to face with a plastic figurine of the poop emoji, mysteriously glued to the dashboard at some point in the night.  

                                                                     


	17. Chapter 17

“Esther, Line 3 for you. Apparently it’s important.”  
Clara sighed, picking up the phone and hitting the button for extension 3.  
   “Hi Payton, what’s the urgent news on the homefront.”  
Craig didn’t bother to ask how she’d known it was him, launching instead into what was, potentially, the worst news Clara had ever heard. “H-hewwo? Cwawa? This is youw widdle boyfwiend cawwing to say I wuv you… and you should come home eawy.”  
    “I’m staying until 9 now Payton. Specifically because you said those words to me. And also because of the poop emoji.”  
“But Cwawa!!! You wuv me!! Come home eawy for suckies!”   
    “Aaaand now I’m breaking up with you.”  
Craig only cackled into the phone before abruptly hanging up.

    Clara rolled her eyes, dropping the phone back onto the receiver and returning to the very important job of bending paperclips into funny shapes... As well as looking over reports. Eventually. For about 5 minutes that is, before the phone rang again. Clara scrambled for a minute, putting it on silent. If Craig actually had something important to share he would've already, she’d call him in two hours on her lunch break.

One hour later, her cell rang again, this time going unheard. Had she answered then her day might’ve gone a lot easier. “Esther! Some guy’s here for you!” Oh… Clara sighed, dragging a hand over her face, oh no.  
    Craig sat in one of the waiting area chairs, head lowered a bit, and staring intently at the door to her office, he nearly jumped out of his seat when she opened it. Clara winced as she leaned out of the doorway, he looked like he’d been crying.  
   She gave a slow nod, gesturing for him to come in, he did, barely giving her a chance to close the door behind him. “You're… You're not actually dumping me right? You were kidding?”  
   “Dude.” She frowned, crossing her arms. “Dude oh my god.”  
“What?”  
   “Yes I was kidding I’m not going to leave you because of your shit taste in memes.”  
“My taste in memes is great.”  
   “I’m- No y’know what I’m not having a conversation about quality memes right now. We’re not doing that. The point is I’m not breaking up with you.”  
Craig nodded, breathing a sigh of relief, “Ok. Good. Great. I knew that.” Clara couldn’t help rolling her eyes slightly, she stepped forward, pulling him into a hug.  
   “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?”  
“I have a dazzling personality.” His tone was indignant, but he relaxed against her all the same, burying his head in her shoulder.  
    “Yea you do, it’d be nice if part of that dazzling personality included letting me work sometimes.”  
“Hey I let you work,” He huffed, still not letting go of her, “Go ahead, get some work done right now.”  
    “Payton.”  
“What? I’m serious! Get crackin Clara, use those skills to pay the bills. Do your thing. Arrest somebody.”  
    “I could arrest _you_ for harassing an officer.”  
“Damn, handcuffs and all? I didn’t know you were into that.”  
    “I hate this conversation so, so much Payton.” She let go of him then, sitting back behind her desk. “Look. I’m sorry I joked about breaking up with you-”  
“-and didn’t answer the phone afterwards.” He interjected.  
    “Right, and didn’t answer the phone afterwards. I’m sorry-”  
“ _And_ you still love me?”  
    " _And_ I still love you.”  
“ ** _And_ ** you’ll take the rest of the day off.”  
     This earned him a pointed look. “No, I’m not gonna take the rest of the day off. But,” She gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk, “You can hang out for awhile, _if you let me get some shit done._ My lunch break is in half an hour. We can go get food somewhere then. Ok?”  
     Craig considered this for a moment before taking a seat. “Ok.”

For a moment they sat in silence, Clara started up typing again. Thirty minutes surely wouldn’t be that bad. It shouldn't've been, and yet, five minutes later; “This is really boring Clara, can we go out in the car or something? Catch some criminals?”  
     “No Payton,” She didn’t look up from the screen. “I do more than just drive around all day looking for criminals to arrest.”  
“Do you look for criminals to shoot at?”  
     Clara winced, “No. I don’t fucking shoot people.”  
Right, duly noted, don’t ask about killing people. “So you what then? Sit around on the computer? Shit that’s what I do, you could’ve worked from home this whole time-”  
     “Payton.” Clara took a deep breath, turning to look at him, “Thirty minutes, ok? Then you will have my undivided lunch break attention. I can’t _take_ said lunch break if I don’t get anything done. So thirty minutes. Ok? Please?”  
    Craig nodded, sinking back down in his chair. “Fine, fine, thirty minutes- well actually it’d be more like 23 minutes now but- no ok, ok go ahead do your work it’s fine.”  
    Clara looked at him, eyebrows raised. Just to be sure he was actually done talking. He seemed to be, and she sighed, turning back to her work before adding, as an afterthought, “Thank you. I love you and I appreciate the effort.”


	18. Chapter 18

Clara stared out at the cemetery through the windshield of the truck, she’d parked about a minute ago and still hadn’t so much as clicked her seatbelt off. twenty-seven, She would’ve turned twenty-seven this year. Clara’s fingers tapped the steering wheel. It would’ve been Abigail Leandres' birthday. She supposed there would’ve been cake. They would’ve gone to see the IT remake too, maybe gone to T.G.I Fridays or something. Who knows? She let out a harsh sigh through her nose, gripping the wheel until her knuckles turned white. Maybe after this she could go out anyway. Fridays had a bar right? She could just-  
     ...She turned, looking at Craig in the seat next to her. He hadn’t said a word since they’d parked, which would’ve been concerning in any other situation.  
“Hey,” She started, clearing her throat when her voice got caught in it. “Thanks for uh. Thanks for coming with me. For, y’know,” She gestured to the graveyard, “This stuff.”  
    He shrugged, “Sure, it’s no problem Clara, do you like… want me to wait in the car? Or?”  
“You can come with. If you wanna.” She finally took her seatbelt off, reaching to pull the small bunch of flowers out of the back seat. “Your call dude.”  
    Craig opened his door, swinging his legs out of the truck but not hopping down. “I’ll come I just didn’t know if I’d make it weird.”  
“You make everything weird.” Clara managed a smile, opening her own door, “But yea c’mon, I’ll introduce you.”  
   “You’ll... _introduce_ me?” Craig couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.  
“Yes. Some people? Introduce their boyfriends? To their dead best friends? To cope??” She didn’t sound hurt, even as she spoke the smile stayed on her face.

The trek over the hill was relatively short, but they walked it in silence. Upon reaching Abigail's grave, Clara did what she always did; flopped down into the grass and lay the flowers next to her, stretching her arms out before folding them beside her head.  
   “Payton, Abby, Abby, Payton.” She nodded at the ground next to her and then up at Craig. “There, introductions are out of the way, have a seat.”  
Craig hesitated, “I’m uh… I’m ok standing I think.”  
   “Suit yourself,” Clara shrugged, kicking her feet up on the side of the headstone, “Y’know this place always has such a dead crowd,” She forced a laugh, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m- I’m always surprised it’s not a more lively bunch,” A few tears were already spilling over her cheeks, but she either didn’t notice or just ignored them. “Especially since- y-y’know folks are just- just _dying_ to get in here…”  
   Craig shifted slightly where he stood, putting his hands in his pockets, then taking the back out again, “Uh… Clara… let’s- let’s just head home ok? Great to um. Meet your friend and all but It’s getting kinda late and I can make dinner and let’s… get going alright?”  
   She blinked up at him, silent for a moment. “...Will you still love me if I get shitfaced after this?”  
He froze, that wasn’t even close to what he was expecting. “Um, Yeah? Of course I will but Clara-”  
    “Radical,” She cut him off, getting up from the ground, “I’m getting hammered.”  
“Clara I really don’t think-”  
    “I’ll drop you off at home first.” She was already headed back towards the truck.  
“Clara- Clara wait!” Craig followed her close behind, getting in the truck alongside her. “You’re not actually gonna do it right? We’re just gonna go home?”  
    She didn’t answer, she only started the car, and without so much as putting her seatbelt on pulled out of the parking lot  
“Clara, don’t- don’t do this Clara c’mon we can go home and watch a movie and I’ll make dinner or- or something but-”  
    She wasn’t listening, just speeding towards the nearest on ramp.  
“Clara- PLEASE- for fucks sake just-”  
    The tires of the truck squealed against the pavement as she pulled off to the side of the road. Hitting the brakes, she slammed her fists against the dashboard before she shifted into park with a defeated sigh and slumped forward, laying her head on the steering wheel. “I can’t..” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t _do_ this Payton I just, I wanna stop _thinking_ about it for five fucking seconds.”  
    “Hey…” He shifted in his seat, turning to put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s uh- Fuck. Clara you _can_ do it- I mean, I’ve seen you do it. The whole dealing with shit thing. You’re good at that.”  
    “No I’m _not_ I’m the _worst_ at it! Do you have any clue how often I just wanna say fuck it and drain a bottle of whiskey and pass out for days at a time again?! I sound like a forty year-old male country singer and I fucking **_hate_ ** it!”  
    He winced, leaning over to give her a poorly angled one armed hug. “Clara you want to but… I mean you don’t most of the time. I used to _want_ to know what chocolate ice-cream tastes like but I didn’t eat it. I know that would kill me a lot faster than drinking but my point is the same. Kind’ve. I’m not addicted to it though so it’s easier probably to not eat but You- You know what I’m saying right?”  
   This wasn’t good, her shoulders were shaking harder now, how much worse had he made this? Clara turned to look at him, and while tears were staining her face that wasn’t why. She was laughing, the silent kind of laugh where you sound like you’re choking on air. She had to take a few deep breaths before she could talk again. “Oh-oh my god dude. That was terrible. Like that was really, really bad.” She sat up, leaning back against her seat and taking Craig’s hand as his arm slid off her, “I love you so much man holy fucking shit.”  
    “I.. uh.” It took him a moment to adjust, he wasn’t sure if he should be more worried or less. “Thanks? You too Clara. Love you too.”  
She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve before leaning over him to open the glove compartment and dig out a water bottle. “I’ll… I’ll drive us home. You can keep your word on making dinner, in the morning I’ll just…” She heaved a sigh and took a few sips of water before finishing. “I’ll give Glaeser a call, see what he thinks I should do.”  
   Craig nodded slowly, “You’re good to drive? Not gonna take us off the side of a cliff or anything?”  
“Nah, I’m food motivated. As in food is motivating me to get home and try and act like a healthy adult for a few hours and call my fucking shrink in the morning.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Aaaand That should be enough.” Clara said, setting the 2 jumbo sized bags of assorted candy on top of the refrigerator. “Most of this shit could kill both of you so no one touches it but me.”  
    “Jolly Ranchers can’t kill me.”  
“I know, that’s why I’ll save you some on _actual_ Halloween.”  
    “Why do we _need_ to hand out candy anyway?” Craig leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, “Do you really want to spend Halloween doing nothing but answering the door and giving free shit to kids you don’t know? Isn’t that what cops are supposed to _discourage?”  
     _“Payton, Is there really anything wrong with having a mildly relaxing Halloween? You don’t even _want_ to go out and do things most of the time.”   
“This is _different!_ This is a HOLIDAY which means a lot of people are out having fun and _we_ could be out having fun with a lot of people!” He stepped forward, putting his hands on her shoulders, “Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara. If I swear to you right here and now that this is my real hair, _then_ can we do something fun on Halloween?”  
      Her only response was to shoot him a glare, he continued,  
“Well, I mean you obviously know that, you’ve yanked on it enough times when-”  
     “Payton. This isn’t about last Halloween, last year wasn’t even _about_ the- I mean it was that but like a part of a whole _thing_ so it was- Look can we maybe not talk about this?”  
      “I’m just saying that having one shitty Halloween doesn’t mean you have to keep having shitty Halloweens. C’mon Clara, you can pick whatever thing we do ok? Is that fair?”  
      She arched a brow, “I can pick _anything?_ ”  
“Anything other than sitting around handing out candy I can’t even eat.”  
      Clara considered this very thoroughly. “Borden House Bed and Breakfast.”  
“The what?”  
     “Haunted bed and breakfast that’s like 15 minutes from here. Some lady may or may not have murdered her whole family there it was like a whole big thing. That’s my pick.”  
     “...You know I meant like, a party or dinner or something right?”  
“You didn't say that and now it's too late.”  
     “We _can_ go I didn’t say we couldn’t. So, what? They hold a fakey-seance and bang on the walls a few times?”  
Clara rolled her eyes, turning to walk down the hallway as she spoke, “That’s only if you pay extra for the gimmick stuff, I just wanna see if the place is actually haunted.” She took a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to her. Craig took it and immediately stretched his legs out over her lap.  
     “You do a really good impression of the main white girl in every horror movie who causes all the problems but somehow survives while all her friends get slaughtered.”  
    “Awww, babe how’d you know that’s what I’ve always wanted to be?”  
“Hey fuck off I’m not getting slaughtered.”  
     “I hereby do solemnly swear, that I will not let a ghost slaughter you under any circumstance.” Clara spoke with dramatic enthusiasm, placing her hand over her heart.  
      “That’s what they all say, you’ll regret this when I’m chopped to death in the shower by a ghost.”

    By the time Halloween rolled around, Clara hadn’t changed her mind. She’d enlisted the help of the woman in the next apartment over, Bridgette, eighty-three and almost entirely deaf, to hand out extra candy in her place and let Sticks out at around seven. Sticks, as she assured, was very respectful of the elderly and wouldn’t need to be leashed.  
    Craig on the other hand, was getting less and less enthusiastic about their Halloween plans. Not because he was scared, as he so insisted, but because spending the night in an old house sounded boring. This was the opinion he voiced frequently over the course of the booking, the drive there, and intermittently throughout the tour much to Clara’s annoyance. When night fell though, he’d stopped complaining, it was obvious she wasn’t going to drive him home. Instead he’d turned to his phone as a distraction, which had worked perfectly well up until going to bed. Now, with nothing to take his mind off the fact that _a woman murdered her entire family in this house,_ Craig found himself scooting closer to Clara with every creak of the floorboards. A particularly loud groan from the ceiling pushed him over the edge.  
     “Psst-” He hissed, reaching out to shake Clara’s shoulder, “Clara- Clara are you still awake?”  
She heaved a sigh, rolling over to face him, “Yes Payton, I haven’t fallen asleep in the ten minutes since you last asked me that.”  
     “Oh. Great! Wanna talk?”   
“About what?” He couldn’t see her in the dark room, but knowing Clara she’d raised a brow at him.   
     “I dunno? Feelings or some shit? You like pretending to be a therapist right?”   
She snorted out a laugh, draping an arm over him. “And what are your feelings at the moment Payton? Is one of them ‘Scared enough to not let my girlfriend sleep in case of ghosts’?”  
     “No! That’s dumb Clara, you’re a terrible therapist.”  
“You do know therapists aren’t supposed to date their clients.” She said, beginning to retract her arm before he grabbed it back, slightly panicked,  
    “Fine no psych 101 shit just don’t go to sleep yet!”   
“Ok, ok, I won’t sleep yet.” She slid closer, putting her arm back around him and cupping his cheek with her free hand, “Look man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would freak you out so much.”  
     “I’m not-” Craig started, but the creak of the pipes in the wall cut him off, and proved him wrong. He jolted slightly, curling in on himself and closer to Clara, “Fine ok, it’s a little creepy! How the fuck do you not think this is creepy??”  
    She only shrugged, hugging him tighter, this didn’t seem like the time to bring up her fever dream of a near death experience last year. “I think it’s creepy, I just don’t think anything bad’s gonna happen.”  
      “That sounds like something someone about to get murdered would say.”  
“I’ve made you watch _way_ too many horror movies haven’t I?”   
     “...Maybe. That’s not the point though. This isn’t a movie, real people died here.”   
“Babe historically speaking a real person has probably died on every square foot of the planet.”   
     “What the fuck?”   
“Personally,” She continued, “I don’t think ghosts can hurt people, because then they’d just be getting ghost murdered all over the place.”   
     “Clara-”   
“I mean we’d just be dropping like flies Payton, think about it, you wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without tripping on a dead body or seven.”  
    “Clara this is horrible why are we talking about this?”  
“Sorry,” She leaned forward, kissing his forehead, “My point is we’re gonna be just fine, but if you really want, I’ll stay up until you fall asleep ok?”  
     Craig hesitated, considering Clara’s ability to punch out a ghost if need be. “Ok.”  
“And no more haunted hotels, I promise. You can pick next Halloween’s thing.”


	20. Chapter 20

The video was dated March 30th 2015, The mouse hovered over the play button for almost a few minutes before clicking it to life.

“Welcome back everybody!” Clara chirped, smiling brightly into her phone camera. “Now I know what you’re all thinking out there; you’re thinking ‘Really Clara? He’s doing this  _ again?’ _ Well let me just go ahead and say I’m thinking the same thing! What a coinkydink huh?” She giggled, turning the camera away from herself, and onto Craig. He slumped forwards in his seat, not looking up at the camera.    
“Clara please- can we p-please not- not do this?” His voice caught in his throat, tears already stinging his eyes.   
“Don’t be silly!” Her tone stayed chipper from offscreen, “You know just as well as I do that I do this for you. Really sweetie, these tantrums are horribly manipulative, not to mention downright embarrassing.”   
“You don’t- don’t have to post this Clara please I’m sorry! Please…”   
“See? Now you apologize because you  _ want  _ something. This was  _ obviously  _ a cry for attention, and now you’re getting attention!”  
    Craig shrunk in on himself further, looking past the camera up at Clara. “I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it Clara I didn’t know-”  
        “Oh you knew perfectly well, you  _ knew  _ that show was the most important event I had planned this month, you  _ knew  _ I had a lot riding on presentation, now do you want to tell  _ everybody  _ out there what you saw fit to do? Or should I?”   
        Silence, Craig only shook his head and buried his face in his knees.  
“ _ Really  _ Payton?” The camera panned back to Clara, who rolled her eyes, “Fine, fine, make me do  _ all  _ the work for you.” She took a seat, seemingly across the table from him. “Well lets see,” She brought a hand to her chin, “I was the host of a fashion show for one of my collaboration lines this past weekend, very exclusive actually, one of the most exciting projects I’ve worked on.” -The sound of a choked sob came from offscreen, but she paid it no mind.- “Now this was clearly  _ very  _ important to me, I put quite a bit of time into rehearsals and interviews and working closely with the designers. So Payton,” The camera turned back to Craig, frantically wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve, “Would you like to tell them  _ why  _ you interrupted the  _ entire show _ ??”  
        “I- I just wanted to tell them about- about getting-”  
“This isn’t about  _ what  _ sweetheart, it’s about  _ why _ , you could’ve had any number of opportunities or interviews to bring it up, was stopping  _ one of my biggest projects _ really necessary? Honestly darling just listen to yourself.”   
        “N…” His breath caught in his throat, and he paused before inhaling shakily, “No Clara, it wasn’t- I- I didn’t mean to- to ruin it I-”  
“But you did, Payton, you just  _ had  _ to make everything about  _ you,  _ so we’re back where we started again aren’t we?”   
       “Yeah…”   
“And I’m sure by now you know  _ why  _ we’re doing this?” He didn’t answer, he only curled in on himself further. Clara sighed audibly from behind the camera. “I do this because I want you to improve Payton, it’s perfectly clear that just  _ my  _ opinion isn’t enough. I just hope if we can get more people to understand what’s going on that you’ll have an easier time turning things around.”   
He gave a small nod, taking a few gasping breaths before managing an “I- I know Clara… I’m s- I’m sorry.”   
There was a brief pause before she spoke, “And?”   
       “A-and it won’t- I won’t do it again…”   
“Aand? I’m doing you a favor with this vlog you know, think of it like a progress report ok?”   
      “O-ok…”   
“So? When someone does us a favor we say?”   
Craig’s shoulders hunched, his fists clenching briefly at his sides before he let out a defeated sigh. “...Thank you Clara.”

The recording ended there, it wasn’t the last one on the site, but it was the last one Clara cared to watch. She closed the hot-pink vlogging platform tab and leaned back in the oversized plush chair. She didn’t know how long she’d be here- how long the other her would be walking around in her life, but she knew she wanted out. She’d known there would be things about her parallel self she didn’t like, she hadn’t known how far that would extend, and she felt sick watching the playback of it. She took a deep breath, this wasn’t her, she didn’t do this, someone horrible did this, and she’d remember that.   
She remembered it when she came back, back to her own world and her own life, and Craig couldn’t look her in the eyes for nearly a month. It was easy to remember the first time they spoke afterwards, she’d apologized for, well, she wasn’t sure what, but she knew an apology was due for something. He’d frozen on the spot when she hugged him, but it was maybe the second hug he’d gotten in over a year, and with the way things had been going… Touch starved and exhausted he’d asked her not to let go.

Clara still thought back to the entire website her alternate self had bought under the guise of ‘Being A Strong Woman Who Wouldn’t Take Her Boyfriend’s Shit’, but for the most part, she tried to think of all things related to her reverse as little as possible. Sometimes it would come up silently, sometimes she’d mention something he’d done or hadn’t done that she wasn’t ok with and for a brief second, something akin to fear would flash in his eyes before he’d respond, but those times were growing rarer as time went on, and they were both thankful for that.


	21. Chapter 21

“So what you’re saying is, without meeting or talking to me, your dad has already decided not to like me?”  
    Clara groaned, tapping her hands anxiously against the steering wheel. “It’s not so much that he doesn’t like _you_ specifically, he just doesn’t really like… Oncelers… In general… That sounds bad I _know_ I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah it does, isn’t that like, pretty racist? Are the back-country folks gonna kill me for not being white too?”  
         “This is Vermont Payton. You’re from Texas you can’t honestly be that scared of Vermont.”  
“I’m from my universes Texas, which you don’t know anything about.”  
        “Is there ANY universe where Texas isn’t horrible?”  
“...No.”  
“Payton… I want this to go as well as it can. Please just… try?”  
      “Of course I'm gonna _try_ Clara.” Craig crossed his arms, “I don't exactly want them to hate me. It just sounds like I'm at a disadvantage here. Chuck and Amy never hated me- they thought I was great.”  
“Whomst?”  
       “Clara’s- uh- not you- Clara’s parents. Chuck and Amy, they knew how awesome I was.”  
“You are awesome. I know that, I want _my_ parents to know that. Please don’t call my dad Chuck he might kill you.”

Pulling up to a large New England farmhouse in a 15 year old truck isn’t out of place in the slightest. Doing so while Bitch I’m Madonna plays at full volume is a bit moreso. Clara turned the volume down before shutting off the engine and sliding down in her seat. “I really do want them to like you, but listen, if my dad’s a dick than he’s a dick, _I_ love you ok? That’s what matters here.”  
    “Well yeah, obviously, what’s _not_ to love about me?”  
“Your unemployment.” Clara smiled, no real malice behind her words. She frowned when he didn’t respond, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “Dude, dude I’m kidding, you can’t even legally _get_ a job yet, it’s ok.” Craig didn’t say anything, but he squeezed her hand back.  
    They were only able to stall for a few more seconds before Sticks let out a high whine, scratching at the back of Clara’s seat.  
    “Ok bud, ok.” She sat up, unclicking her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck before leaning the seat forward so Sticks could follow. “Go nuts, run free, piss on stuff, you do you dude.”

     Walking up to the house, Craig close behind, she took notice of the significant lack of an SUV parked in the driveway and silently thanked god that they’d gotten there before her aunt Theresa, who managed to harbor even less sympathy for once-lers than her father did. ‘Don’t be anxious,’ She thought, ‘It’s your own home, you can ring the doorbell for fucks sake.’ She hesitated, then knocked.  
    Thank fucking god, a short woman with bobbed red hair answered the door, throwing her arms around Clara immediately. “Mucize kızı!!! Welcome home!”  
    “Hi mom!” Clara beamed, lifting the shorter woman up a few inches off the ground.  
Upon being set down, her mother turned, looking Craig up and down. “You must be the new fella,” She held out her hand, “I’m Mia, I’ll be the only parent you need to be afraid of or listen to, pleasure to meet you.”  
    Craig took her hand, firm handshake, eye contact, it’s just like a business meeting. “Payton Chavez, nice to meet you Mia.”  
    Clara breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t fully trust him to act like an adult, it was… Exactly that, she didn’t fully trust him to act like an adult, she just wouldn’t say that out loud. She called for Sticks and the party headed inside, unfortunately, the easy part was over.

    “Charles! Come hug your daughter will you!?” Mia called from the front foyer, and moments later a man nearly a foot taller than her rounded the corner and pulled Clara into a hug.  
    “Who’s this? This looks like an adult! Where’s my kid have you seen her? My favorite kid!”  
Clara rolled her eye’s, hugging him back. “I’m your _only_ kid. And I hope I look like an adult on account of being 27.”  
    “Don’t remind me!” Charles smacked a hand over his forehead in mock disbelief, “You _can’t_ be old! That’d make _me_ old!” He smiled, letting go of her and stepping back. Once his eyes fell on Craig however, the smile fell from his face entirely. “You must be Payton,” He said, eyes narrowing slightly, “It’s a real _honor_ to meet you, she never even brought the last one home.”  
    Craig stiffened slightly, but extended his hand all the same, “That’s me, nice to meet you too.”  
Charles took it, gripping his hand a bit too hard and locking eyes with him as he gave a firm shake, the air around them nearly froze and then-  
    “Ok!” Mia clapped her hands loudly, shooting Clara a sympathetic glance, “Well i’m sure it was a long ride up here, you kids get settled in and I’ll fix us all a snack!”  
  “Of course,” Charles released Craig’s hand. “I’ll show you to the guest room Payton.”  
“Dad.” Clara finally spoke, “I’m still 27. We share an apartment. Don’t do this.”  
    “I’m _kidding_ Clara,” He held up his hands in surrender, but the look he shot Craig said that he was definitely _not_ kidding. “Go get settled in, it’s best you bring your stuff in before Theresa gets her anyway.”  
    Clara winced, before nodding and grabbing Craig’s hand, “Right, Payton grab the bags with me I don’t wanna carry them all.”  
    “But you-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his protest, she’d already pulled him back out the door.

     Craig sighed as Clara pulled his suitcase out of the back seat and handed it to him. “Why didn’t you just, y’know, lie?” He asked, frowning at her as she pulled out her own bag, “Why’d you have to tell them I’m a onceler anyway? It’s not like there’s any records to back it up.”  
“I don’t want to lie to my parents Payton.”  
    “It’s not really lying, it’s omitting facts. Facts that make them hate me.”  
“They don’t _hate_ you Payton. Dad just… needs to warm up to you.”  
    “He hates me Clara, what was that guest room Meet The Fockers shit? Do I _look_ like Ben Stiller?”  
    “No- Payton he’s just. Like this ok? It’s stupid and I’m sorry, but he’ll come around.”  
“I’m _trying_ Clara. I really actually want your family to like me!”  
    “I know.” She set her bag down and stepped forward, hugging him tightly. “I know and I really appreciate it, we’ve been here for ten minutes Payton, he just. Needs time.”

    Clara didn’t explain why she hurried him back inside when she saw the Q5 turn onto the driveway, she’d kept quiet all the way up the stairs and down the hall into her room, where she promptly shut the door and dropped her bag on the floor with a heavy sigh. “Welcome to 18 year old me’s twisted mind. We’ve got bugs.”  
    Looking around, it was clear what she meant. Butterflies and moths covered nearly every inch of the room. From the glow-in-the-dark wall decals to the comforter set on the bed, the aesthetic was clear.  
    “So uh… you got a tattoo to match your room or was it the other way around?” Craig joked, dropping his suitcase and flopping down on the bed.  
  “Leave me alone I like moths.” Clara laughed as she spoke, taking a seat next to him. She fell silent for a moment before laying back, staring at the star-covered ceiling. “...Aunt Theresa _does_ hate you by the way. Just uh, figured I should give you a heads up. Ignore literally everything she says ok?”  
    “Oh.” Craig turned, pulling his knees up and curling into her side. On instinct she wrapped an arm around him, her fingers toying with his hair.  
“She really doesn’t matter though ok? She barely likes _me_ . Apparently I ‘covet restraintless ambition’ and ‘shamefully chose the path of a sympathizer’ and blahblahmehmehmeh. Seriously. Ignore everything she says.”  
    “Yikes. Clara is she gonna try and murder me? Like do I need to sleep with one eye open?”  
    “No.” She paused. “The door locks anyway don’t worry about it.”  
“Clara that’s fucking horrifying.”  
    She turned, draping her other arm over him. “She’s not gonna murder you Payton. She’ll just be a bitch. The fact that she’s even here is surprising. She uh, when I was with Thespi she more or less disowned me? Kinda? She wouldn’t have any contact with me and she yelled at dad a lot.”  
    “So, what you’re saying is at least I’m better than that guy?”  
Clara rolled her eyes, flicking Craig’s glasses up onto his forehead. “That’s true but not at all the point of anything I just said.”  
    Craig scrambled for a second, fixing his glasses. “Yeah yeah the point is don’t listen to the crazy lady I got it.”  
 Clara snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes, “Yes, that, right on the money you got it. Please don’t call her ‘crazy lady’ to her face though that’ll make everything worse.”  
    “But I can behind her back?”  
“Well not to anyone other than me.”  
    “Got it.”  
There was a knock on the door, “Everybody decent?” Mia’s voice rang out humorously, “Snacks are ready! And Clara you know your father’s rule about keeping the door open if you have a date over!”  
   Clara groaned, dragging a hand over her face. “MOTHER I AM ALMOST THIRTY.”  
  “Kidding, kidding!” Mia laughed, opening the door and poking her head in. “The food really is ready though, and you’re cousin Josh is here I know it’s…” She paused a moment, “Been awhile. Since you’ve been able to see him.”  
    Clara sat up, eyes widening. “Is Zigs here yet?”  
“He’ll be here tomorrow, his flight was delayed but he should get in before the parade ends.”  
    Clara nodded before turning to Craig. “You’ll like Josh, if we can get Aunt Theresa distracted enough we can come up here and play Mario Kart or something.”

    That was easier said than done, it took approximately ten seconds after walking downstairs for an intimidating blonde woman, presumably Theresa, to begin glaring daggers at Craig over her pointed nose. She didn’t say a word to him, only excused herself to the restroom and left. Clara paid her no mind whatsoever, instead turning to the teenager sprawled over the couch. “Dude.” She said, unceremoniously.  
    “Dude.” He replied, looking up from his phone for a moment in what could only be interpreted as immense respect.  
“You gonna shred some toxic masculinity and hug me or nah?”  
He laughed, heaving himself off the couch and giving Clara a quick hug. “Still psychoanalysing huh?”  
    “All day every day.” She smiled, turning to Craig. “Payton, Josh, Josh, Payton. Josh please don’t say anything your mom told you to say.”  
 Josh tilted his head, “You’re a real onceler? Dude you look just like a regular person.”  
 “Josh what did I just fucking say!?” Clara crossed her arms and glared at him.  
    “Clara!” Charles spoke up, “Language!”  
“Sorry, sorry.” Josh shrugged, “I just didn’t expect you to really.”  
    “Dude. Seriously. Enough.” Clara took a step closer to Craig, “Real human here, has feelings. Stop listening to your mom.”  
    He only nodded, but didn’t say anything else about it. Clara figured that was good enough.

    Aside from a few uncalled for questions, Josh proved himself rather agreeable throughout the evening, outside of beating both Clara and Craig at Mario Kart four rounds in a row. Theresa stayed almost entirely out of sight, though Clara overheard her and her grandmother talking in the kitchen, their hushed tones proving that the conversation wasn’t a very pleasant one. Mia asked Craig the expected questions, what it was like coming into existence in this universe whether or not he planned on filing specialized citizen paperwork and to feel free to contact her if he had any questions about it. Charles stayed quiet for the most part, but he asked a few- surprisingly non-derogatory- questions of his own, primarily about how the world Craig came from worked.  
    Why had she been so worried again? This seemed to be going well enough, aside from not seeing her grandmother for more than thirty seconds before she disappeared into the kitchen Clara would call this a success.The family said their goodnights without any more qualms or suggestions of Craig staying in the guestroom, and even her father managed a smile before heading off to bed. If tonight was any indicator maybe the dinner itself wouldn’t be all too bad.

       Of course the next morning, she remembered. Things had started off fine, letting Craig sleep in while she got up to watch the parade and dog show and answer all the questions her family wanted to ask while Craig _wasn’t_ in the room. Nothing too upsetting was said, not to Clara at least.  
    Theresa stood at the end of the hallway when Craig came out of the bedroom, Her eyes fixing him with a cold glare. “You don’t love her.”  
    Craig stopped, taken aback, “Excuse me?”  
“It’s just in your nature,” Theresa continued nonchalantly, “You don’t love her, and she doesn’t really love you. You’re her rebellious phase, and she’ll realize that soon enough, all the rest of us just have to wait.”  
    He didn’t respond, instead shifting his eyes to the ground and slinking past her down the stairs. He didn’t say anything walking into the living room, sitting silently next to Clara on the couch. She put an arm around him, but retracted it almost instantly when there was a knock at the door.  
    “I GOT IT!!!” She was already sprinting for the door, throwing it open with a smile. “Zigzags!” The taller man blinked at her for a moment before he broke out in a smile of his own and lifted her into a near-crushing embrace.  
    “Clara!” He let her down, coming inside. “Good to see you! It’s been way too long!”  
“It really has, dude how was the trip?”  
    “Wet, underfunded, as productive as it could be.”  
“There’s unfortunately no charity for curing stupid chucklefuckery yet huh?”  
    “Not yet, you’ll be the first I tell-”  
“Sigmund!” They were interrupted, Theresa rushed down the stairs and pulled Ziggy into her arms, clutching him dramatically. “Oh I’m so glad you’re here safely! I couldn’t even sleep last night thinking about taking a plane in such awful conditions!”  
    “Mom!” He smiled, hugging her back. “I’m fine! Safe as can be I promise!”  
“Well,” She glanced towards the living room out of the corner of her eye, “Maybe we’ll have a good family Thanksgiving after all.”  
    Clara turned, just in time to notice Craig excusing himself back upstairs, glaring daggers at Theresa, she turned and followed.

     “What was that about Payton?” Clara asked, following him into her room before he had a chance to shut the door. He didn’t answer at first, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the floor in front of him.  
    “Payton,” She tried again, taking a seat next to him. “Talk to me dude what’s up? Did I miss something? I thought this morning was going ok.”  
 “She said-” He cleared his throat, “Theresa said some bullshit, it’s stupid.”  
    Clara’s eyes narrowed, “What’d she say?”  
“Let’s see, that I was a ‘rebellious phase’,” He started, “That eventually you’d realize you didn’t love me- Oh! And my favorite! That it’s “in my nature” to be incapable of being in love with you! Great to know right!?”  
    Clara didn’t have much of a response for that, she heaved a heavy sigh and pulled her legs up onto the bed before turning and wrapping her arms around Craig. “...I’m sorry. If she wasn’t my aunt I’d deck her in the fucking face. That’s all bullshit and you know it.”  
    “I know…” He leaned into her slightly, but didn’t say anything else.  
“Was this… A mistake?” She asked hesitantly, “I mean, mom likes you but if dad and aunt Theresa are being _this_ shitty… Do you wanna just. Call it? Go home?”  
    “No, Clara it’s Thanksgiving I’m not gonna make you ditch your family just because-” He paused, “Your mom likes me?”  
 “Yeah? Dude if mom didn’t like you she’d make it very obvious.”  
     “So she _tolerates_ me?”  
    “No. Listen man, I’ve known my mom for over twenty-seven years. I can tell when she genuinely likes someone I’m dating.”  
  “Oh… That’s.” The corners of his mouth twitched, a small smile forming. “I _knew_ it. Somebody here has the common sense to see how awesome I am.”  
    “Yes she does.” Clara smiled, kissing his cheek, “And you _are_ awesome, even dad’s starting to get that through his head.”  
  “I really want them to like me Clara. They’re your family…”  
     “I know baby… mom does, dad’s coming around. Just ignore aunt Theresa entirely ok?”  
  Craig nodded, leaning further against Clara.

  For a moment, they stayed like that, silent, before Clara spoke up again.  
    “Would your uh…” She seemed uncertain, but pushed on, “Would your family have- have liked me?” She felt Craig tense a bit and immediately backtracked, “Sorry, sorry. I dunno if that’s like. If that’s even something you’re ok to talk about and especially right now and I’m. Sorry. That was dumb.”  
    “Clara it’s ok,” Craig turned slightly, staying in her arms. “I guess, I mean, mom would’ve _loved_ you but I could’ve brought home anyone on the planet and it’s not like she’d fucking stop me.”  
    “...So how would you know she liked me.”  
“She wouldn’t avoid talking about you at least. I don’t think. Then again maybe she’d be worried because she probably thinks relationships are _supposed_ to be shitty or something. Not like she ever bothered trying for anything else y’know?”  
    Clara frowned, shifting a bit and leaning back  against the headboard. She pulled him along with her, letting him rest his head on her shoulder while he continued talking.  
    “It’s like ‘hey maybe DON’T date shitty people constantly all the time’ or like ‘at LEAST don’t let your son back himself into the same fucking situation’ haha right? Maybe provide _some_ kind of positive example or fucking something. It’s _obviously_ not like you don’t care.”  
    He groaned, burying his face in Clara’s sleeve for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Like if somebody can- can uproot her fucking life to kickstart a business for you and send you to college so you can actually run it and do shit for you twenty-four-seven until you can take care of it yourself you’d _think_ she’d want to, I-I dunno, _not_ throw herself on the mercy of shithead after shithead but _hey_ maybe that’s just how life is _supposed_ to be! It was fucking fine when I did it too right?!”  
    He was tearing up now, but didn’t notice it himself. God when was the last time he’d even _thought_ about this? “And, _and_ it’s not like _I_ made it any easier! I c-could’ve been an even bigger dick then I was and she wouldn’t’ve said _anything_ like fuck lady will you just-just stand up for something for once!? If you can p-pull it together to take care of your kids you’d think you could, y’know, do it for _yourself_ !”  
    He sat up suddenly, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve, now that tears were spilling freely down his face they were harder to ignore. “So yeah. Yeah she probably- probably would’ve liked you.”  
    Clara didn’t say anything for a long while. She sat up, pulled him back into a hug, and let him cry. She wasn’t certain how long they stayed like that, not getting up until Mia called that dinner was ready.

    The dinner itself went smoothly enough, if not a bit tense, but good food tends to cause good moods, and that was certainly the case in the Esther household this Thanksgiving. Theresa kept her thoughts to herself save for a few passive comments. Clara kept her fists to herself and managed to stop after half a glass of champagne and one rum and coke, trading in for regular coke. Mia wrote out a list of basic references for Craig’s citizenship registration and reminded him not to hesitate to call if he needed help with any of it. Under the powerful influence of tryptophan and pumpkin pie, Charles even informed Craig that he “Seemed like an ok kid.” and somehow that stood out as a major holiday highlight. Clara had more questions sure, but those, those could wait for another time.


	22. Chapter 22

Clara Esther had to be the luckiest woman alive, keyword, _alive._ __  
The bullet had hit her left arm, just below and slightly to the left of a major artery, and with an impact strong enough to fracture her arm as opposed to shattering it. That’s all Clara could remember at the moment, that no, she wasn’t going to die, she was not going to die.  
She said this aloud to herself, she must’ve said it several times because every time a nurse came within hearing distance they’d give her a reassuring smile and a “No, you’re definitely not.”   
Her arm didn’t hurt, maybe it was done having a hole in it. She looked down at it, hanging bandaged in a sling, and attempted to move it. No, it seems she was incorrect, that hurt very very much and the hole was still there in her arm right where it had been five minutes ago. It also occurred to her that she had just screamed the word ‘fuck’ extremely loudly in a hospital, that wasn’t very nice Clara why would you do that? What if you just taught a child the fuck word. Upon realizing she’d said all of this out loud to an empty room, she promptly forgot about the bullet hole in favor of laughing at the ridiculous drugged up woman talking to herself in a hospital room. She was that woman, and that was hilarious.

Her laughter was interrupted by loud voices in the hallway, one of which sounded familiar.  
     “Sir, _sir!_ You can not just barge in here without following the process! Visitors need to-”  
“My girlfriend is DYING asshole!” Ah yes, that was undoubtedly Craig. Clara smiled as seconds later her suspicions were confirmed by the door being slammed open.   
     “Clara!” Craig practically threw himself onto the bed next to her, and she winced at the shift in the mattress. “Can you hear me!? Are you alive!? Don’t go into the light!!!!!!!!!”              
“Payton-” Clara winced at the feeling of the bed moving, “I’m not dying I’m. It’s like ok so my arm bone is… it’s trying to become two arm bones, but not all the way just a little bit. But it’s not doing it so it’s ok!” This must’ve been an adequate medical explanation, as Craig settled next to her without jostling as much. Even so he leaned his head against her right, un-shot shoulder. Clara looked to the frazzled receptionist expectantly, “He can be here it’s ok. I love him he’s allowed so write that down.”     
         “I-” The young man sighed, seemingly resigning, before setting a sheet of paper on the end of the bed, “Just- Please fill out the sign in while you’re here. It’s mandatory visitor protocol.”  
      Craig only rolled his eyes and waved him off, “Yeah yeah fine- just leave us to it will ya buddy? These could be her final moments and I don’t want you infringing on her memories of being in love with me.”     
     “Payton I’m not DYING I just got some broken arm bones in my arm. Couldn’t have broken arm bones anywhere else but none of them are gonna kill me.”  
“Shhh don’t speak, save your strength, you need to plan your final words carefully and make them about how much you love me.”  
      “My final words are gonna be when I’m old and they are going to be the final words “Oh fuck.” and then my old person self will die but not on today.”        
“I have no fucking clue what you just said.”  
       “That is ok to not understand… that’s the way life is sometimes… but I am alive and I will be alive for like, a lot more time.” Clara nodded solemnly as she spoke, this was very serious business.   
     Craig didn’t have much of a response for that, instead opting to nestle further into the crook of her neck and muttered a “You’d better be…”  
“I’m gonna will be.”

They stayed that way for close to an hour, Clara drifting off to sleep fifteen minutes in. She awoke to what sounded like arguing.  
     “-You CAN’T do that if she DIES tonight it’s on YOU!”  
“Sir I can assure you the patient is in stable condition-”  
      “YOU CAN’T ASSURE ME OF SHIT!”  
“Please- I understand you’re upset but we can’t allow you to-”  
      “...Hey..” Clara quietly interjected, blinking away and trying to process exactly what was happening. “Who’s assuring shit what?”  
“Clara! Clara thank god! He’s trying to kick me out Clara he’s trying to make me leave you don’t let him make me what if you die and I never see you again-” Craig had practically tied his limbs around her- no wonder he’d sounded so loud, he’d been crying directly into her ear.  
“Who’s dying I’m not dying I told you… why’s he kicking you out what’d you do…”  
     “I didn’t do anything!”  
It was then he was interrupted by the same stressed receptionist that’d signed him in, “We are asking you to _leave_ because visiting hours are _over._ ”   
     “I’m asking you to shut the fuck up!”  
“Payton... “ Clara interjected with a tired sigh. “I’m not gonna be dead just go get some food and let Sticks out and then come back and then I can go home ok?”  
    “But-”   
“My butt will be fine. I am an ok. I promise.”  
    “...Ok.”

It was not ok. It should’ve been after what’d been the following five minutes of tearful goodbyes and ‘I love yous’ and other general means of stalling. And it was ok, for about an hour.  
    “Food!” The announcement came accompanied by four loud knocks on the door. Were Clara of sound mind and not on painkillers this would’ve tipped her off that she was not, in fact, being visited by a dietary service provider. However, since this was not the case and Clara was quite high, she found herself entirely shocked when Craig strolled into her room wearing a pair of scrubs and pushing a cart of food trays. Her immediate reaction was that of any reasonable yet heavily medicated person:  
     “Did you do...the thing they did in fucking Shrek Two? Is that what this is?”  
“Ok, first, no ‘Hi honey great to see you!’? Ouch.” Craig abandoned the cart, flopping gracefully on to the foot of Clara’s hospital bed, “Second, that can’t possibly be the only movie you’ve seen where someone’s dressed up like an employee.”  
      “I am on so many morphines what do you want from me man?”  
“Appreciation for all the effort I put into getting back in here.”  
       “I appreciate your effort even though they are going to kick you out again next time the nurse comes.”  
“I can hide under the bed-”  
        “Payton.” She reached out, her good arm flailing forward before landing gently on his head. “I’m not. Dying. Like at all. Not even a little bit. I can go home like tomorrow.”  
        He didn’t look at her, opting instead to grab her hand. “What if you get an infection and your arm rots off or something?”  
“Then I’ll have one less arm but still be not dead.”  
        “...You’ll come home tomorrow?”  
“For tomorrow and for before Christmas.” She attempted to run her fingers through his hair, but only managed to pet his head at an awkward angle. “If you sneak back out they won’t kick you out and then you can come pick me up tomorrow. If you get thrown out then you can’t. You can handle a night without me, Sticks won’t eat you I promise ok?”  
        “Yea…” Craig sat up, slumping forward as he got off the bed, “Ok.”  
“Hey-” Clara called out as he headed for the door, “You’re like… pretty great and I love you.”  
       “I love you too Clara-”  
“We should… I should ask if you wanna get married someday but that’d be a secret so don’t tell yourself ok?”  
      Oh. He froze, hand on the doorknob. She wasn’t all there. She obviously wasn’t proposing. Right?? No, right, morphine was proposing. This was the best day of his life- ok no, not the best, Clara’d been shot best wasn’t the right word. He was smiling wasn’t he? In a hospital room he wasn’t supposed to be in and could get thrown out of at any minute and then he couldn’t come pick her up tomorrow and-  
“R-right… Secret. Ok.” He managed to open the door, leaving the cart in her room. Someone else would deal with it, he had too many other things to think about.


End file.
